Talla's Fallen Temple Ch. 09

"Our investigation also discovered that something odd had happened for the few days before your mystery baby apparently disappeared."

"And?"

"It seems that breast milk rations were divided into more shares than were necessary for the reported number of babies in the local nursery."

Women didn't always nurse their own children. For one thing, they needed their rest. For another, it didn't do to build too much emotional attachment between mothers and their children. That led to all sorts of trouble.

Besides, there were so many Endowment women who kept their milk up for various reasons other than its nutritional properties that human breast milk wasn't hard to come by. That being the case, the milk that was donated was stored in the nursery and divided into equal portions for the babies therein. Since there was always too much, some of it always ended up being discarded.

"So you were able to see specific records indicating how many babies were in the nursery?" Trisha asked. "And you were able to tell how the milk was divided?"

Binyata scrubbed at her pubic hair, trying to get out all of the sweat and dried lubricants.

"The women in the nursery," Binyata explained, "keep careful records of the number of bottles they go through and, more specifically, the number they clean. It's regarded as a sign of diligence."

"Since we know how many bottles they store per child in the nursery, we can tell how many children they were cleaning bottles for."

Trisha raised her eyebrows.

"And the number of bottles tells you ...?" she trailed off.

Binyata stood straight up with her arms folded, letting water cascade over her breasts, and looked directly into Trisha's eyes.

"That they were keeping enough milk for more children than they were recorded as having."

Trisha's eyes widened.

"How many more children?"

Binyata's lips twisted.

"One."

-----------===================-------------

Gern

"This is your first Bazaar?" Yua asked.

"Yep," Talla answered nervously.

"Don't look so shaky," Tina urged. "We're just going into Form to spend some of our hard earned coins."

Talla inhaled deeply as they walked through the central triangle. The soft sandstone walls would soon give way to hard, dark, wooden surfaces. Just thinking about it made knots in her stomach. She couldn't push her most horrific memories out of her head.

"You know what happened the last time I was here -"

"Try not to think about that now," Tina told her. "You're here to look at clothes."

"Shiny, beautiful, fabulous clothes!" Yua called out joyfully.

At least she could play her part.

Talla couldn't. There was a queasiness in her stomach that told her she might vomit at any moment. She'd barely eaten any dinner.

"So what's our plan?" Tina asked in a lower voice. "Our real plan."

Talla squinted her eyes, imagining all those dark wooden beams and long oak panels. If their path at any point came near a wooden table, she might just lose it.

She swallowed hard.

This was the way forward, the way back to Zhair'lo.

"We enter Form at half past seventh bell," Talla said evenly. "Make our way through to the Bazaar and hang around until eighth bell."

"Just wait for this Zoe?" Tina asked.

"Yep, it's up to her at that point."

Yua looked around to make sure no one was nearby.

"And you're going to mesh with her, like you did with me?"

Talla nodded.

"You don't look ... um ... ready for that."

Talla's eyes bulged. This part was true. How was she supposed to mesh with someone when she wasn't aroused? How does one get aroused when one feels like vomiting?

"This is a lot of faith you're showing, you know?" Tina asked.

"You said it yourself," Talla replied. "This is the only way to know. And I don't want to pass up Zoe. She's a messenger -- the only one we might ever get on our side if Iron and Tight are barred to us."

Tina acknowledged this with a nod.

They rounded a bend and joined a chattering throng of women flowing through Form's gate. Sentries stood at the gate, but it was hard to say that they were really guarding it. They simply ignored all of the traffic passing them, exhibiting the stoicism typical of their kind. It was as if they wanted to pretend that the whole Bazaar simply wasn't happening.

Talla, Tina and Yua placed themselves in the middle of the crowd for anonymity and made for the gate with the giant stone square embossed into its crosspiece.

Trying to quell her rebellious stomach, Talla passed through through the wide portal with her eyes on the ground. She felt her knees go weak as if she was standing on the edge of a cliff and taking her first look down the long drop.

Then she heard music and she looked up.

"This is different," she said, involuntarily speaking her thoughts.

There were colourful banners and blankets everywhere. Women in entirely unusual -- and quite non regulation -- clothing were dancing, singing and playing music. Gone or covered up were the hard wooden panels, the sharp edges, the icy cold iron.

"What?" Yua asked.

"It's different," she repeated.

"Looks the same as it always does," Yua denied.

Talla's voice having been lost, Tina answered for her.

"No, it doesn't," Tina said. "When there's no Bazaar on, it looks very different from this."

"How so?"

"No colours. No singing. No dancing. No music."

"Oh," Yua said. After a moment, she added, "Maybe this is easier for you, then."

Talla didn't answer. She was listening to the music.

"That song," she murmured. "I know that song."

She'd heard it somewhere before, but when? She'd never seen real performances before. Women had come to the dorms of the children to play funny little songs for the kids, but nothing that sounded like this.

It was, if she had known how to categorize music, a kind of ballad. It struck her as sad and almost desperate, but hopeful at the same time.

She was just on the verge of remembering it when the tune changed. Twisting her lips in annoyance, she turned to look at Tina and Yua, only to find them staring at her. She'd stopped moving for a moment and they clearly didn't understand why.

She inhaled, sucking cool, refreshing air into her lungs. Her gag reflex dissipated. The song had settled her like a warm blanket and a cool drink at the same time.

'Like a drink from a little well under a tree,' she thought, 'pulling me in with happiness and sadness.'

Out loud, she said, "Let's go."

And off she went.

After a quick glance at each other, Tina and Yua followed.

"That's my girl," Tina said, a hint of pride in her voice.

-----------===================-------------

"You're going to do Facial first?" Pussy asked.

Maksa nodded. The two of them were down in the cool, candlelit basement once more, spending a night with a couple of Officers and tables full of genealogy diagrams.

"It's almost a month away, Mistress," she replied dismissively.

"Odd choice, that's all."

"How so?"

"I know you," the Sorceress explained. "That night when I changed in front of you, you weren't jealous of my pubic hair or my face."

"Pardon?"

"Your eyes tell me much," Pussy went on wisely. "I can see how you look at other women. You're not jealous of legs, arms, faces -- any of that. But if you see a woman of Endowment ..."

She trailed off suggestively.

Maksa looked up, staring off at the farthest wall in dismay.

"I didn't know I was so obvious."

Her mistress tapped her Temple.

"I see things, you know."

Maksa turned to look at her.

"That comes with the Facial upgrades, doesn't it?"

The Sorceress nodded, then waited a beat before speaking.

"So why not take Endowment first?"

Maksa inhaled and her eyes shifted to the floor in uncertainty.

"There's something odd about those Facial women," she replied. "I want to know what they know."

"Indeed," the Sorceress agreed with a tilt of her head.

There was silence for a time, as sheets of parchment were unrolled, moved about, examined and shuffled, as candles burnt down their wicks and wax pooled at their bases.

"The Problem," Maksa said suddenly, for there was only one 'Problem' when it was spoken this way.

"Yes?"

"When you discuss it, you sound almost guilty."

The Sorceress.

"Yes," she said.

"Why?" Maksa asked. "If it was something that was caused by the old breeding program, you can hardly be responsible. That programme was started hundreds of years ago."

Pussy pursed her lips thoughtfully and the three Officers gathered round the large table paused in their work.

"I suppose," she replied, "that I view it as a collective responsibility. They were of my Discipline who forged that programme. In the administrative sense, I am their descendant and the responsibility of cleaning up their mistakes is mine."

Maksa looked at her Mistress. Without the aid of those mysterious Facial powers, she couldn't read anything in the other woman's emotions, so she had to go on the logic of the thing alone.

"That's not enough," Maksa said. "I know what it's like to clean up someone else's mess. I cleaned up after those Virgin girls in more ways than you can imagine. I know what that feels like. It involves eye rolling. Your eyes don't roll when we talk about this. You look at the ground."

A Facial woman, Maksa supposed, might have picked up more subtle clues. But something as obvious as guilty eyes tilted to the ground? Even Maksa could catch that.

"Indeed," Pussy sighed.

There was another pause; almost pregnant, one might call it, if the word weren't so loaded with meaning in this particular room.

The Sorceress's eyes met Maksa's.

"What it comes down to is that I would have done the same thing in their position," she explained. "I would have chosen the same programme, likely the exact same breeding matches. I would have ignorantly played the game they played, with too little testing and far too little information. I would have created the same mess with which we now find ourselves saddled."

Saddled. Like a horse, or an ox. Burdened. Assigned involuntarily.

"How can I claim to have any less responsibility than they if, given the opportunity, I would have done the same as they did?"

She waved her hand over the table full of parchment before them.

"In that sense: this is my mess, your mess, and our mess."

Deep breath. Firm nod.

"Now let's be about cleaning it up."

-----------===================-------------

The Bazaar was the oddest thing Talla had ever seen. The event took place in a square that seemed even larger than the one in front of Endowment Hall.

"They use this place for military training," Tina had whispered at one point. "You'll see when it's your turn."

It was hard for Talla to imagine, despite the size, that this place could be the stage for one of those immense historical battles she'd been taught about. There was nothing violent or militaristic about it at this moment.

The centre of the square was filled with row after row of little booths, displaying all manner of clothing and jewelry. Poles had been erected and lines had been strung from them. From these lines hung all the colours of clothing. There were pure whites and whites tinted with the lightest of blue and even pink. It was hard to imagine that these colours were allowed, but Tina had sworn that anything you bought here was okay to wear. The yellows could lean into green, but not much toward orange. The oranges, meanwhile, pressed on into peach and other shades of lightly tinted red.

The tables seemed to be arranged randomly.

"Wouldn't it make more sense to put all the white stuff at one end?" Talla asked. "Everything is all over."

"Not really," Tina said. "It's sorted by who makes it. So if you find one piece you like, the other pieces will be nearby, right?"

"Plus," Yua pointed out. "The women who make the stuff want to be near their own clothing, and take credit for it."

Talla wondered, but only briefly, what the women of Form did with the coins their wares brought them.

"When are you supposed to meet your friend?" Tina asked.

"My sister," Talla corrected instantly. "Around eighth bell."

They were walking through a long row of jewelry stalls. While the rules about clothing colours seemed to be quite flexible, the rules about jewelry appeared to be nonexistent. In fact, Talla couldn't remember a single lesson that mentioned such things in any way.

"Don't bother asking about the crowns and circlets," Yua advised, hooking one of Talla's arms. "The women will just ignore you unless you're at least an Acolyte."

"Check out the earrings," Tina put in. "You don't have anything yet, do you?"

"Uh, no."

Her two companions, distracted by all the shiny things around them, seemed to have entirely forgotten about their mission. It was just as well, Talla supposed, that two out of three of them looked natural.

Besides, what else was there to do? The token, as the saying went, had been passed around the table. The next move was Zoe's, not Talla's. She could do nought but wait. And as long as she was waiting, she might as well see what all the excitement was about.

A jumble of white clothing on a hanger caught her attention.

"What is that?" she asked, pointing.

There was a woman watching over the stall. She wore a thin, twisted band of yellow fabric around her chest and a transparent yellow sash draped over one shoulder and down to cover her midsection. From this, Talla took her to be an Adept. Gracefully, if a bit possessively, the woman flowed around her small counter and took the hanger from its perch.

"Only the most daring and courageous could wear such a thing, young lady," she said, her silken voice smooth as the wind. "But alas that you are an Initiate and this is the clothing of a Neophyte."

Neophyte. That meant a double sash on the top and a half length skirt on the bottom, all in white.

"Do you mean to tell me," Talla asked, "that those little -- um -- ribbons, are meant to be sashes?"

She was astonished. The cloth strips that made up the supposed 'sashes' were no more than two or three of her fingers wide.

"Just wide enough to cover the nipples," the vendor reminded her. "This is all that is required."

"But still," Talla protested. "I'd feel pretty naked."

The vendor smiled.

"And there is something wrong with being naked?" she asked suggestively. "Something wrong with the female body? Especially a body bent on Serving for the night?"

"No -- no," Talla stammered. "It's just -- I -"

She shook her head and refused to finish her sentence.

"Perhaps when you are -", the vendor started.

"How much is it?" Talla asked suddenly.

It was the older woman's turn to be startled. Even Tina and Yua looked at Talla in surprise.

"Twenty seven coins."

"I don't have that much," Talla replied, though it wasn't clear from her tone if she was disappointed or relieved.

"Another time, perhaps," the vendor said.

With a sudden exhalation of air through her nose, Talla turned and led her sisters away. After a few paces, just of ear shot of the vendor, Talla turned back to face them.

"What if it's not there when I come back?" Talla lamented. "What if someone else takes it?"

"It happens," Tina consoled her. "But there will be other clothes. Don't worry. There's always something daring you can find somewhere."

Talla twitched.

"I wanted to have it for the next time I see him," she said.

No need to say who 'him' was.

"Keep looking around," Yua said encouragingly. "You'll see how many nice things there are."

So Talla looked, but there was nothing as nice and as utterly, gloriously ridiculous as the first thing she had seen.

Quite suddenly, she found her arm hooked at the elbow. At first, she thought it was Yua, based solely on the height of whoever had grabbed her. But she knew the feel of Yua's touch and this wasn't it. Instead, she found herself being led away by a short, blonde girl.

"You just have to see this," the girl was saying excitedly. "It's perfect for you."

Talla turned back to Yua and Tina, who were tagging along as best they could in the crowd. The blonde girl seemed to know her way through a mob and wasn't shy about using her strength to pull Talla with her.

"Who are you?" Talla asked, flustered.

"Rika," the girl whispered under her breath, a deathly contrast to the smile pasted on her face. "Zoe's sister."

Her voice immediately turned back to immature giddiness.

"This will be the perfect thing for you," Rika went on. "With those boobs, you just have to try it."

So this was, quite literally, the hook they'd been waiting for. Rika led Talla over to the most crowded corner of the Bazaar. It was a shoving match just to reach one of the two tables that were set up with a couple of small curtained off closets jammed between them.

"This one, this one," Rika chattered, snatching a large top off a hangar.

She then shouted to the vendor, a woman in a bright orange dress stitched heavily in jewels, "Can she try it on, Mistress? Thank you."

That last bit was done without actually waiting for a reply. Rika prodded Talla gently into the nearer of the two curtained cubicles - fortunately unoccupied - just as Yua and Tina arrived breathlessly out of the crowd.

"We just have to see how she looked in this," Rika announced with a giggle and hurled Tina and Yua unceremoniously through the gap in the curtain. She followed immediately after them.

Talla looked at her two sisters, both of whom were panic stricken and gasping for breath. Rika stepped through the curtain and closed it behind her. For the moment, the four of them were isolated in this little square cubicle, protected from the sight of others by a thin white curtain.

Rika looked at Tina and Yua before turning to Talla.

"You trust these two?" she asked, her voice gone deadly serious.

Talla gulped and nodded.

"There was only supposed to be one," Rika admonished, all sense of giddiness gone. "But I suppose it's fine -- maybe even better this way."

"What's fine?"

Rika rolled her eyes. Everything had happened so quickly that it was only as Rika parted her white sashes to reveal her tiny breasts that Talla noticed the girl was a Neophyte, like Tina. She looked at Talla and nodded at her chest.

"Quickly, if you please, Initiate," she said.

There was something in the way she made the motion and the way she spoke that made Talla obey immediately. She lowered her head and kissed each of Rika's tiny pink nipples. Then, as she had done many times before, she lifted her own simple top above her breasts, letting them fall over her ribs.

Rika was taken a back.

"Quite the pair for an Initiate," she said before lowering her mouth to place her kisses.

With a last glare into Talla's eyes, she let out a low chirping whistle and waited. Tina and Yua looked around, wondering what was going to happen next. There was an answering whistle from just the other side of the curtain. Through the back of the cubicle, another girl stepped in. She was dark haired and had unusually strong legs.

"This is Etta," Rika explained. "She's going to be Talla for the next bell. Etta this is Talla and ..."

"Tina," Tina put in quickly.

"Yua," the other added, dumbfounded.

"The boobs never were going to match," Etta said, chagrined, "but at least my top does. And I can pad it."

Talla`s jaw dropped. Zoe had planned this all out, right down to the clothing Talla should wear, in the few seconds it had taken her to realize what it was that Talla wanted to do. Zoe even knew whom she could trust and managed to get the whole thing sorted in a day. It made everything Talla had done thus far look trivial.

"Alright," Rika said, looking pointedly at Talla. "You have exactly one bell. Then you get your skinny ass to the back of this closet and you wait until you hear me whistle, got it?"