The Good Kingdom

"We have this," Tara said. "It is one of our traditional remedies for pain."

The doctor studied the whitish substance and smiled. "This is white willow bark," he said. "It contains a chemical called salicin, which has been used for ages to treat all kinds of maladies. Aspirin is derived from this herb. It should do nicely."

"We strip the bark from the young trees in the spring for use in our herbal medicines," I told him. "Let us prepare a tea for you."

"You're most kind," he replied handing me the strip of bark. "I think I'll lie down here for a while if you don't mind."

"Rest all you want," Tara said with genuine concern. "The questions can wait for another day."

"Just one thing," he said to her. "Do you know what happened to my friends?"

Tara turned to me, looking hesitant. Finally she said, "We must presume that they are no longer alive and that you are the only one who survived."

I saw his eyes turn dark as he buried his face in his hands, moaning softly.

At my insistence, everyone vacated the monastery with the exception of two girls whom I ordered to watch over him. I waited until he had drunk some of the tea and then I left him in the care of his attendants.

It was indeed as the doctor had surmised. He had suffered a slight concussion and he spent the rest of the day recuperating. Early in the morning of the following day the girls who had been caring for him sent a messenger to my lodge to notify me that he was awake and feeling better. By the time I got to the vihara he was washed and dressed and eating breakfast on the veranda. He looked refreshed and full of energy.

"How are you feeling today?" I asked him as I sat down beside him.

"Much better, thank you," he replied. He shoved a piece of goat cheese in his mouth and chewed ravenously. "Forgive me, but I haven't eaten in a long time."

"I'd say you haven't eaten for almost five days."

He looked at me steadily as he ate, and when he finally swallowed he reached for a full cup of water and drank it down without stopping.

"I have a lot of questions," he said wiping this mouth with the back of his hand. "First of all, who are you?"

"Francesca Karin Aadland Romanetti," I replied. "It's nice to meet you Jonathan Francis Cooper, M.D."

I extended my hand and he shook it vigorously.

"That's a mouthful," he said genially. "How did you know my name?"

"You told us yesterday. Don't you remember?"

"I'm afraid I don't. In fact, I don't seem to recall much of anything except the name of this place—Swarga Loka is it not?"

"Yes. In English it means the 'good kingdom'.

He nodded. "I would certainly call it that. And that old woman...her name was...Tara?"

"She is our holy mother—our mataji."

"And who was that other girl—you know, the beautiful one...blonde, blue eyes...big..." He indicated by the posture of his hands in front of his chest what he wanted to convey.

"Breasts?" I said, finishing his thought.

"Yes," he smiled. "She couldn't seem to keep her hands off me."

I laughed. "That was Astrid. I must apologize for her. She can be annoying sometimes."

No, no, it's quite all right. But I must admit that I felt a little bit like a zoo specimen."

"You have to forgive my sisters. They...we...haven't seen a man in a very long time—especially a handsome man like yourself. They were just curious."

"Speaking of men, I haven't seen any. Where are they?"

"There are no men here," I replied, knowing that I would be inviting further inquiries. "My father was the last man to live in this village and he died several years ago."

He stopped eating and took a moment to look around as if to verify my statement.

"Are you telling me that there are no men at all in your village?"

"We are a society of women. It's going to take some time to explain."

"I'm listening."

"No, not now. But we are having a celebration today and the entire village will be at the town square. I can explain everything to you then. I'm sorry, but I can say no more."

He shook his head and reached for a piece of fruit.

"Okay. I guess I can wait. May I ask what it is you are celebrating?"

"Your arrival," I replied.

"Really? That's very gracious of you. But I wouldn't go to any trouble on my account. I don't plan on staying here very long."

"Someone will come for you at midday," I said, choosing not to continue the conversation further. "You'll be introduced to the people formally and then we will take you on a tour of our village. Please remain here until my sisters come for you. I have to go now."

As I stood up he reached out and grabbed my arm.

"Tell me," he said. "Is there any chance that my friends could still be alive?"

"It's very doubtful. Tara believes that the only reason you survived is because the goddess was protecting you."

"And what do you believe?"

"I think you were lucky—verylucky."

He let go of my arm and smiled warmly. I wanted to hold him in my arms at that moment and tell him how sorry I was about his friends, about how sorry I was that he could never go back to the world he left behind. But of course I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to destroy his hopes, not yet.

"I want to meet your people. But I must get back to civilization. Will you help me?"

"We will discuss all that this afternoon. Be patient."

Within hours of my taking leave of our new guest, the town square was bustling with activity. Someone joked that the doctor's arrival was fortuitous in that the celebration of the goddess a few days before had served to prepare for the current festivities. From Tara's point of view everything was going according to plan; that plan reflecting the divine machinations of the goddess. Most people seemed to share her view. To me however, the doctor's arrival was pure happenstance. That he was handsome was a fringe benefit, one that would serve as a strong inducement for our people to engage in sex with him.

As noon approached, I sent for the stranger. The square and surrounding streets were filled with people, all anxious to see our newest resident in the flesh. The tables were strewn with all varieties of food and drink to celebrate his arrival. Tara, sitting at the head of the main table, looked regal in her purple robe, laughing and talking with several of the villagers. Even Chari, who usually did not enjoy these ritualistic functions, had to admit that the prurient nature of the affair was something she found very enticing. After all, it was the will of the goddess that Jonathan Cooper's body was now ours to do with as we saw fit. And that was to surrender every drop of his living seed to us so that our society could endure.

"Here they come!" Astrid shrieked as the doctor, surrounded by a group of excited girls, walked into the square preceded by his two attendants.

At my request he had agreed to be dressed in a long, flowing white robe and sandals. It was similar in style to the cotton robes that most of us wore, but on his tall frame it made him look majestic. As he passed through the crowd of gawking women, he smiled and greeted them with open arms. They threw themselves at him as if beseeching the blessing of a god; such was the power of his masculine beauty.

He was led to the main table where, after being greeted with much ostentation by Tara, me, and several others, took his seat at the old woman's left, while I sat on her right. Chari, Ide, Juliette, and Astrid sat at their usual places while a bevy of girls surrounded us on all sides, all wanting to touch our guest and offer words of welcome.

"There will be plenty of time for all of you to meet and talk to Dr. Cooper," I shouted at the crowd that was now pressing upon us from every side. "Please go and sit down. Let us give thanks to Tara for the wonderful blessing she has bestowed upon us."

As I said this, Tara rose from her seat and made a few hand motions, signifying a universal blessing upon all of us. "Let the will of the goddess by obeyed," she said solemnly and then sat down.

The enervated crowd slowly moved away from the beleaguered doctor, their enthusiasm quelled momentarily with the promise of more exciting things to come.

Tara and I refused to discuss anything related to the doctor's expressed desire to leave the village until dinner was finished. We focused the conversation on the history of our people and on other pleasant topics to keep him diverted from our true intentions. Through it all I felt like a spider spinning a wicked web of deceit, saying anything that might lure him into a false sense of security, and hating myself for my blatant disingenuousness. I remembered how my own father had been similarly deceived; the pretense giving way eventually to a placid acceptance that he would never leave Swarga Loka; that he would spend his remaining days there to serve as a sexual plaything for the women of the village. As I watched the handsome doctor make conversation with Astrid, I felt that I was committing the same terrible crime against him, and no matter what justification I sought, no matter what comfort I might find in the beliefs of our people, nothing could assuage the guilt I felt at the duplicity of it all—that I was betraying the trust of an innocent man.

"You don't look very happy, Francesca," Chari said to me. "What's wrong with you?"

"I was just thinking about my father," I replied. "I always wondered if he was truly happy living here with us."

"He seemed to be."

"At first he wasn't. I know he missed his friends and family. It took him a long time to adjust to our way of life."

"Yes, it did. But you know he would have died if had tried to leave here. He knew it too. Tara brings the men to us, but she does not let them leave."

"And she does not let them live long either."

"The ways of the goddess are sometimes difficult to understand, but we must obey."

As much as I loved my best friend I knew that she and I would never see eye to eye on religious matters. It was pointless for me to try to explain to her, with my meager understanding of the science my father had taught me, that there were rational explanations for events glibly assigned to the handiwork of some invisible deity. That there was such a thing as empirical evidence obtained via a process called the "scientific method," which allowed human beings to know and understand the natural world. And that physical laws existed independently of the vagaries of human superstitions and were antecedent to them would forever remain beyond her grasp. Few of my sisters believed as I did because my belief offered no solace for the unpredictability of the universe. I believe they took comfort in the knowledge that there was a power greater than themselves that sought to protect and keep them safe from the intractable, volatile, often brutal forces that governed all of creation. And who was I to deny them that comfort? My own views, like theirs, had to be held up to scrutiny. And who could say which of our beliefs was the correct one? In the absence of ultimate truth, every impulse of humankind was just guesswork.

"Did you put the extract of the Mandukya plant in his food?" I asked her.

"Yes," she replied. "In a few hours he will begin to feel its effects."

I sighed heavily. "I wish there were another way to propagate our race besides using this dangerous drug."

"I admit that it's a powerful aphrodisiac, but I wouldn't call it dangerous."

"You wouldn't? Then why do all the men who have used it die young? My father was only 42 years old when he died."

"I don't know, Francesca. All I know is that we're going to need his sperm, and lots of it, if we are going to survive."

At that point I preempted our conversation to turn my attention to the doctor, who was being questioned by Ide.

"So, why don't you tell us about yourself, Dr. Cooper," she began, watching him eat his food with gusto.

"Please, call me Jonathan," he replied between bites.

"You told one of the girls earlier that you were from America?"

"Yes. My home town is called Philadelphia, the capital city in the state of Pennsylvania."

"We know about America," Astrid said. "Francesca's father told us about it."

"Your father was an explorer?" Jonathan asked, turning to me.

"He was a scientist," I replied. "He was born in Rome but moved to America when he was accepted into...ah, what it's called now...oh yes, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology."

"Sure," he said smiling. "MIT. Great school."

"He taught me and everyone else here who cared to listen, all about science and the natural world.

"I see. And you said that he is no longer alive?"

"He died when I was fifteen. That was three years ago."

"I'm sorry."

"But he left us a wonderful legacy. His knowledge is now part of our culture. You'd be surprised how much we know about the world outside Swarga Loka."

"The thirst for knowledge seems to be a universal constant. Even here in your idyllic little valley I am gratified to see that curiosity is not dead."

"But how did you end up coming here?" Juliette asked him.

He shrugged. "Curiosity, what else? I wanted to learn more about the world and the Himalayas have always fascinated me. When my friends invited me on the expedition I couldn't turn it down. Little did I know that they would all die and that I would be the only one to survive."

"You survived because the goddess Tara meant you to survive," Chari said.

"That may very well be true," he replied. "But I believe I was saved because I was standing twenty meters behind them. It saddens me greatly that I will never see them again."

For a few moments we sat together in silence, as if acknowledging by our collective quietude the sorrow he must have felt at losing his friends to the demons of the mountain. He continued to eat heartily, as if making up for all the days he had taken no food. After he had drunk some water, he looked up and stared intently into my eyes.

"The last time we spoke you told me that there are no men here in the village. Why is that?"

I explained to him that no male child had ever been born to a woman of Swarga Loka.

"That is very strange indeed," he said, looking puzzled. "But you need men to keep your society going. How do you do that?"

"Every so many years the goddess sends us a man, just as she sent you," Ide told him.

Jonathan laughed. "Are you saying that you are totally reliant upon your goddess to provide you with men?"

"It has worked for over three centuries."

"I'll be damned," he said. "And you're absolutely sure that none of the women ever gave birth to a male child in all that time?"

"Yes. And we have records going back to the time when our Scandinavian ancestors first settled this valley. Ask Francesca. She's the studious one."

I could see that he was troubled by this apparently metaphysical revelation. For a man of science it must have confused him greatly—a mystery that demanded to be solved.

"There's got to be a reason—a logical, scientific reason to explain it," he said, pondering the seeming strangeness of our tale.

After dinner was finished, Tara had all the tables removed, leaving a large area of open space in which Jonathan found himself in the center. Four hundred women stood shoulder-to-shoulder forming a wall of flesh around the edge of the square, their eyes focused intently upon the man in the middle. At first he looked awkward standing there by himself while the audience stood and gaped at him, but he accepted his situation with equanimity, as befitted the temperament of a man of science. I saw him speaking to Astrid, who made no attempt to hide from him her obvious sexual interest. Ide and Juliette also played their little feminine games with his mind, touching his body whenever they had a chance and lusting after him openly. The only thing that prevented the entire crowd from enveloping him all at once was Tara herself. She, who spoke for the living goddess, her own namesake, was the spiritual buffer between the doctor and the imminent sexual assault that would have resulted had she not been there to preside over the ceremony. Her will was inviolable and sacrosanct. To disobey would be an act of utter reprobation with the offender forever being regarded with dishonor.

At the old woman's urging, the crowd at last calmed down sufficiently for the indoctrination to begin. I stood in the center next to the doctor, with Tara, Chari, and Ide standing close by. We were effectively hemmed in on four sides by swarms of curious, amorous, and impatient females. I felt as if I had led a lamb to the slaughter.

"This man, whose name is Jonathan Francis Cooper," Tara began addressing her audience, "has been brought to us as a gift from our goddess Tara—she of the pious and devout spirit. We are here today to indoctrinate this man into our society. He will learn what is expected of him and how to behave in our presence."

Jonathan looked askance at the old woman. "Pardon me. What do mean by 'indoctrinate'?"

"Every man who finds his way to our village must be taught our laws and rituals," Tara said solemnly.

In that moment I saw in his eyes the first glimmer of a deeper understanding that was only now beginning to manifest itself in his conscious mind. Slowly the light of a terrible truth began to illuminate every aspect of his being. He turned to me with a painfully inquisitive look while I stood there impassively, forbidden to offer him any explanation.

"I am not interested in your laws and rituals," he said to Tara. "And I have no intention of becoming part of your society. All I want to do is to go home."

Some of the women, including Tara, snickered at this, but he didn't seem to find it very amusing.

"I don't see anything funny about it," he said, dismayed. "Why are you laughing?"

"You cannot leave here," Tara said, regaining her composure. "No one has ever left here and lived with the exception of one man. Everyone else who had tried to do so, whether man or woman, has met with death."

"That may be," he replied. "But I have friends and family waiting for me back home. It's where I belong and I am prepared to take my chances."

"I think the goddess has made it clear to us that Swarga Loka is where you belong."

He frowned. "I don't recognize your goddess. And what you want is of no concern to me. Will you help me to leave this place or will you not?"

For a moment there was a prolonged silence that greeted his words. No one had ever spoken to Tara in such a bold fashion. Not even my father had shown such audacity.

"Forgive him, mataji," I said to Tara. "He is a stranger and not accustomed to our ways."

"There is no need to defend him, my child," Tara replied, her demeanor remaining calm yet imperious. "He will learn to obey or he will be punished. There is no other way."

He took a step toward her, ostensibly to intimidate her by his large frame, but she avoided the confrontation by summoning several sisters to force their way between her and the distressed doctor.

"Look Tara, mataji, or whatever you are called," he said impatiently. "I appreciate what you did for me and I am grateful for your help. But I cannot, I will not, remain here. You can't coerce me. I have a right to determine my own destiny and I will die before I submit to your will or the will of your goddess."

"But you will submit," she replied, her voice filled with emotion. "You will submit because you—your mind, body, and soul—belong to me now, and to all the sisters you see standing around you. You are the gift brought to us by our goddess Tara. The man whose seed will fertilize the women of Swarga Loka so that our line can continue."

Jonathan took a step back as if to gain a better perspective of his frail, but determined adversary.

"You must be out of your mind if you think that I'm going to offer myself as a willing sacrifice to keep you and your Amazons alive. I have other goals for my life besides acting as a bull for your stable of heifers."