Marina Rhade, Matriarch of Pride Majorum, smiled brightly as she watched her grandson escort the First Daughter of the Theros family across her threshold into her sitting room. Telemachus and Anastasia were superbly matched on such a number of levels, it was a pity the girl wasn't yet of an appropriate age to formally enter into a union with him. It had been a Majorum tradition for many generations that a female should have reached her twenty-first year before she was considered mature enough to make a wise and lasting choice in her mate. With two years yet to go, the Matriarch could almost touch the desperate impatience emanating from her grandson. Marina had to smile. Telemachus had grown into a remarkable man, but patience was not a particular strength he'd been able to cultivate.
Both young people bowed as she acknowledged them. "This is a splendid surprise," she commented. She gestured quickly to a nearby divan. "Sit, please. To what do I owe the pleasure of the company of two of my favorite children?"
She smiled when her grandson nearly protested being called a child, but he refrained unexpectedly. "I have a petition to present, worthy Matriarch," Anastasia replied formally, inclining her head. "I beseech you to hear me."
"This is not a simple social call to an old woman, then?" Marina asked, pressing her fingers together.
She carefully observed her grandson. There was a strange stillness in his demeanor that she found vaguely disturbing. The pair seemed dreadfully solemn, fingers woven together between the hands that held fast one to the other. What in the name of the Progenitor could be wrong?
That they had enjoyed the pleasures of one another's beds for some time was not a secret to her. It was perfectly acceptable; moreover it was expected and encouraged, to experiment with the sexual roles one would fill later in life. During this enthusiastic experimentation, it was not unheard of for the proper precautions to be overlooked, and a child to be conceived prior to the announcement of a formalized union. Given the high priority placed on the ability to reproduce, this was never considered a shameful event in a Nietzschean community, nor did it hold the stigma that it often bore in other societies. It only confirmed the fertility of both parties, which was certainly a positive aspect. Perhaps this was the case, and Anastasia carried a Rhade child in her womb, and they were reluctant to share this news with their Matriarch?
Perhaps they had come to petition her to grant Telemachus permission to accept a proposal so that they might publicly announce their union and register their names. If so, she would happily and immediately grant him the permission to take a wife that tradition dictated was still too young to step into that role.
Marina stood and her bearing suddenly became regal and rife with authority. "Speak then, Anastasia Theros, out of Maria by Nikolaus. Your Matriarch will hear your petition."
Stasia rose and stood before her Matriarch, head bowed. "Matriarch, I ask that you grant Telemachus Rhade, out of Brianna by Galahad permission to accept a current and a future proposal," she intoned, beginning the ages old litany.
Nodding, the Matriarch smiled, pleased that Anastasia had already gone so far as to select a co-wife for her intended husband. Few females were bold enough to simultaneously make a request of their Matriarch for themselves and another in the same petition. Her mind was awhirl. Telemachus and Anastasia would have exquisitely beautiful children. They would move with his exceptional grace and interpret life with her extreme intellect. Brianna would be thrilled, and had already discussed several plans with her mother-in-law and Matriarch regarding the lavish marriage celebration she envisioned being held at the Rhade household.
"Speak the name of the females who would make an offer to this male as first and second wives."
"As first and immediate wife, I offer you Mahala Winder, out of Falcon by Winder. As second and future wife, I offer myself of Pride Majorum, Anastasia Theros, out of Maria by Nikolaus."
The color drained from her face. The Matriarch made a surprised sound and reached for the arm of her chair as her knees threatened to buckle during a graceless staggering move. Telemachus was on his feet in a heartbeat, "Grandmother!"
He helped her settle into her chair and crouched by her side while Stasia scrambled to pour a glass of wine. "Drink this, Matriarch," she offered, unable to meet the questioning eyes that sought hers.
The older woman took a couple of quick gulps and smiled at the concern on their faces. "This is an omen, Stasia," Telemachus hissed angrily. "This is a very, very bad idea. It was ill-conceived in and can only end badly."
Marina laughed, patting his hand that clutched at hers. "I had thought when I reached the ripe old age of ninety-five, there would be little left in this life that could surprise me. I've been proven wrong on that count, obviously."
"My apologies, Matriarch," Stasia said, kneeling at her feet.
"Do you know that during my time as Matriarch, only once have I entertained a proposal made vicariously through another female? It was maybe, twenty-five years ago, and it was an aunt making the request on behalf of a niece who had lost her mother. The girl felt she was in disgrace and unworthy to approach her Matriarch. I believe the young man in question was half-Nietzschean, and there was a child on the way…" her voice trailed as she recalled the incident. "I was rather imagining that perhaps the two of you had come to tell me that I had a great-grandchild on the way sooner than planned."
No, Matriarch, he wanted to shout. My beloved has only gone insane and we thought you should be the first to know. At least Stasia had the grace to look shamed by the reaction it had wrought on his grandmother.
With a heavy sigh, Marina looked at the pair. "I think I'm sufficiently recovered to continue," she said at length. "This is singularly unexpected. Anastasia, why in the name of reason would you make such a request?" She eyed Telemachus oddly. "This female of Pride Falcon doesn't carry a Rhade child, does she?"
"Of course not, Matriarch," he replied, shocked that his grandmother and Matriarch would even entertain the thought.
"Telemachus says there's nothing reasonable about it, Matriarch," Stasia replied quietly. 'Lemachus looked so smugly satisfied with her answer that she wished she hadn't said it, but one was obligated to answer the Matriarch in all things. "He remains quite certain that I've suffered some irreparable brain damage as a result of my injuries during the Gamma Base incident. It's his opinion that my thinking has become unquestionably perverse and my father should remand me to the care of a psychiatric institute for rehabilitation."
"And is he wrong in those observations, child?"
"No," he replied tersely.
"Very well then. Telemachus, leave us. There are things to be discussed between Anastasia and I."
"But, I don't want to leave!" he exclaimed plaintively. "This concerns me implicitly and I want to be a part of these negotiations."
Marina looked at him sternly. "This is a discussion between a Matriarch and a First Daughter," she informed him. "The discussion between a Matriarch and future alpha will come after."
She knew that sullen expression and she couldn't fight a small smile. "You may come speak to your grandmother when we are finished," she added kindly.
He bowed and left reluctantly, closing the door behind him.
"I had expected him to pout a little longer," Stasia commented as the Matriarch moved to sit on the divan.
She patted the empty spot beside her. "Come, child, and let us speak of many things."
Stasia did as she was asked. The Matriarch took Stasia's hand between her own and smiled at the younger woman.
"I have questions that beg to be asked of you. Foremost, I must ask you this: are you not attracted to Telemachus? Does he not draw your attention as a suitable mate? Has he done something that causes you to find him unworthy as a potential father and husband?"
"Oh, Matriarch, no!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide. "I am more than attracted to 'Lemachus. I love him more than life itself!"
"Among our kind, love is rare, child. Have you found him lacking in some respect that I, as Matriarch, should know about?"
"Of course not! There is no flaw in him, Matriarch. He's the best and brightest of his generation, of many generations. There is no other like him," she protested quickly in his defense.
"Then he has proven himself unworthy in some respect," the Matriarch countered gently. "I would certainly qualify him as a perfect specimen of Nietzschean maleness. However, he is my grandson; I am biased in this regard. I look at Telemachus and I see his grandfather, so perhaps I am blinded by some fact that is hidden from me." She leaned conspiratorially toward the younger woman. "Does he not please you in your bed?"
Stasia's cheeks flushed immediately. "Yes, very much, Matriarch."
Marina nodded. "Then you do not want to reproduce with him in the foreseeable future? Is there another male that has found favor with you?"
"No, I want Telemachus to be the only father of my children and I want us to have six thousand, if it were possible!"
The Matriarch shook her head. "Anastasia, child, perhaps we must consider that Telemachus is right. It may be that the injuries you suffered during the attack are deeper than first diagnoses, and are not sufficiently healed. Your answers to my interrogation and your stated request are at cross-purposes!"
Stasia buried her face in her hands. "I know, Matriarch, I know," she agreed miserably.
"Precious child, you want Telemachus. Telemachus wants you. It's quite elegant in it's simplicity," the Matriarch laughed, rubbing the despairing young woman's shoulder. "Let's forget this nonsense of Telemachus taking Mahala as his first wife, shall we? He's probably wearing my carpet in the outer hallway thin with his pacing. He broods and stews on problems like his grandfather used to, and there was a constant worn path in his office between his desk and the window."
Stasia looked up, her expression pained, tears in her eyes.
"You still haven't answered the most important question that I have. Why would you ask me to consider this request? It's obvious that Telemachus wants no part of it."
Stasia wiped her face with her palms. "You know my brother has dissolved his union with her, Matriarch. I know he consulted with you before he did it. Stars above know that he wouldn't want to do anything that might bear a mark of impropriety or social taboo. It would come to light and sully his fine reputation in some election or another in his future, and we couldn't have that, now could we?"
"Be clear on this, Anastasia. Because of our isolation from other systems, we Terazed Nietzscheans have become distant and somewhat unique in our ways. Our perceptions have become somewhat dilute with regard to the vision the Progenitor had for our race," she explained, offering a tissue to her distraught companion. "If you had been a daughter to one of those prides outside our system, Sabra-Jaguar, for instance, you would have no regard for what happened to another female. You would have lauded Jared for putting away an unacceptable wife who would only diminish his status and social standing. In fact, that unacceptable wife would eventually diminish the status of your family and encroach upon your own degree of worth to a future mate of your own."
"That's just wrong, ignoble," Stasia protested, nonetheless knowing it was also true. "Surely that's not what the Progenitor meant for us to be, how he would have chosen for us to behave."
The Matriarch shrugged. "It is always survival of the fittest, and there are many arenas in which to test oneself," she commented.
"Ah, but there's the rub, Matriarch. By all rights, I shouldn't have survived that attack. I was horribly injured, dying even. I'm here to tell you this, not because my family enjoys high status, not because I had splendid survival instincts, not even because I am a product of superior engineering. I'm here because another Nietzschean willingly defied 3,000 years of genetic engineering and placed herself in harm's way." She stood and flung her hands in the air. "By those standards, I am completely unworthy to be a wife to Telemachus and a mother to his children!"
"You exaggerate, dear. You are worthy. One only needs to see the two of you together to know that you were made for one another. You are meant to be together, and produce many beautiful great-grandchildren for me. Six-thousand babies is a grand goal, and I applaud your vision, but I would be satisfied with whatever number eventually transpires."
Finally, Stasia did smile. "They will be beautiful, Matriarch, and I will happily dedicate myself to that task one day. But this day, I ask again for you to not disallow Telemachus from accepting a proposal from the woman to whom I owe a life-debt. Even if it were not my own flesh and blood that has so cruelly cast her aside, it is because of me that she will certainly no longer be found acceptable in any male's eyes. She lost a limb, Matriarch, she lost her leg when she shielded me from the skylights as they fell."
Marina smiled. What character this one would instill in children produced with Telemachus! "I know of Mahala, and her unfortunate situation, Anastasia. On a deeply personal level, I am touched by your compassion regarding the events that have transpired. Also, I am disappointed in Jared Theros' decision to put her away. As Matriarch, I did not disapprove his decision to remove her as his third wife. Had she been first wife, I still would not have exercised my right as Matriarch to prevent the dissolution."
Stasia was shocked. "I do not understand," she muttered.
"You are young, and I do not expect you to understand the duties a Matriarch must fulfill. To be Matriarch is sometimes unpleasant and difficult. First and foremost, it is her task to see that our proud Nietzschean heritage is revered and our traditions preserved. That includes cultivating the strength and solvency of the Pride. The excellence that is Majorum resonates in every fiber of your being as it does mine, Anastasia, never lose sight of that.
"That being said, you must also understand that your brother is advancing quickly through his career, much as is Telemachus. Without question or exception, I see them both reaching the highest pinnacles of their professions. Neither will give way to an obstacle that bars the path to achieving those goals. This is the way they have been since they were small boys, and there is no reason to see those patterns deviated from in their adulthood.
"There will come a day when Jared will stand among the political echelon of Terazed, and he will make decisions upon which our very survival may hinge. It will be exceedingly important that he command the absolute respect of Nietzscheans who hold great influence and power with regard to such decisions. He cannot be perceived as anything short of the Nietzschean male ideal."
She paused to sip the wine Stasia had poured for her and to examine the face of the First Daughter for any signs of understanding brewing behind those dark green eyes. Satisfied with what she saw, she continued. "His choice of words were perhaps lacking in subtlety or finesse, but he was correct when he confessed to me that he had made a variety of mistakes when he'd accepted the proposal from Mahala.
"The first error and most glaring was his entering into a union with a Wayist. Ah, ah, don't favor your Matriarch with such a look!" she said suddenly as Stasia frowned. "Your brother is no Wayist, and will never have the facilities to grasp their philosophies, let alone appreciate a few of the finer points of their beliefs."
"Matriarch, you surprise me! You speak as though you believe the Way may hold merit."
"On a deeply personal level, I do find a certain elegance and gentleness in a few of their mandates. While they certainly don't fall parallel to the need for survival at all costs, they do speak to our innate desire for spreading culture and the constant need for self-improvement. This is something all civilized beings would do well to reflect upon, but certainly worthy of a Nietzschean to contemplate."
Stasia smiled, nodding in agreement as her Matriarch continued. "Jared is as traditional in thinking and philosophy that you will find among this current or previous generations. While his intellectual faculties are impressive, he lacks vision and the ability to accept new ideas. His first and second wives easily mesh into his life, as their thinking is much like his. His household would have been in constant contention because of these philosophical differences, which would have lead to much gossip among the wives of other political party members. This gossip is often shared with husbands in their beds, and many a vital decision has been conjured and decided upon while a male drifts off to sleep in the arms of a wife as she whispers in his ear. This, my dear, is the reason his selection of a Wayist for a wife in a non-Wayist household was a dread error."
"You are wise, Matriarch. I understand better now, and I thank you. But I know you have more insight to share with me, so I will try to be a worthy student of your instruction," Stasia said, inclining her head.
"I think it was perhaps some moment of shared passion that colored your sibling's ability to reason, and it caused him to lose sight of many things. It was most likely that it was the same shared passion that caused Mahala to hastily offer a proposal that was accepted without all due proper consideration.
"This brings us to the question of her fertility, which was only recently sadly confirmed. It's to be expected that their genes would have produced sound enough offspring; Falcon is easily as demanding in its engineering standards as Majorum. It's rare enough in these days to have anything beyond a potential second wife tested for fertility. I do not fault Jared on that account. Even so, he was within his rights by the standards set by the Progenitor to put her away—even had she been a first wife—because it was apparent that she would never bear a child to him. This, again, would have been a damning mark against him later in life. The old traditionalists that he will stand with—and against—in those future political circles will not accept within their ranks a male unable to produce a child with whatever female he takes to wife."
"There are other ways for a female to honor her husband with offspring," Stasia said, the anger flaring again. "In a few years—"
The Matriarch again laid a calming, gnarled hand to settle her advisee. "You are learning the arts of science and medicine. You understand such things, child, and have even forged new paths in those fields. You cannot expect a husband who learns his new wife is apparently barren to be patient enough to wait until science makes such a thing possible. It is the old way, and within his right to have put her away because she was unfit and unable to become a mother within an acceptable period of time."
Unhappily, Stasia accepted this, too.
"Lastly, we must consider that Mahala now fails to meet the definition of physical perfection. Being the student of science and medicine, you are aware of the symmetry of natural design, and the constant desire to improve and surpass it. Even when she is later fitted with a prosthetic device to replace her missing limb, the Wayist of which we now speak will never again be physically perfect. She is incomplete in a physical sense. Again, this will be something that your brother's future colleagues will hold against him." She held out her glass, empty now. Stasia quickly refilled it.
"It pains me to remind you of these things, precious child. It is ever-present in my thoughts, this great burden of guilt that you bear because of this recent unfortunate event. As Matriarch, I am indebted to this child of Pride Falcon. Her actions tipped the balance of survival in your favor. It would have been a great loss to our Pride to be deprived of your future contributions and the value of your exquisite genetic engineering.
"On a personal level, my feelings burst over the emtiononal dam I must maintain as Matriarch. I sat vigil and watched you come into this life, and I knew that you would factor highly into the future of the Rhade line. There have been many conversations with my grandson in which I will purposely drop in the name of this potentially acceptable female or another. It is only when I casually drop your name in, perhaps when discussing something as mundane as the weather, that one sees the immediate difference in his reaction. His demeanor changes instantly. His expression becomes more animated, his eyes bear a certain fire, and suddenly I am aware of a subtle scent of citrus."
"I like citrus," Stasia sighed, and Marina didn't fail to notice the flush that rose in her cheeks as she said it.
"I'll tell you a secret, between women," Marina said, leaning over with a conspiratorial smile. "His grandfather used to smell of cinnamon when his adrenaline started to rush because he was aroused. Actually, it's always very amusing that males never seem to notice their unique scent, although they naturally pride themselves on their keen ability to detect a change in a female!"
Stasia giggled. Obviously, two glasses of wine was over the Matriarch's limit if she were at the verge of sharing an alpha's bedroom secrets with a young unmated female.
The Matriarch finished the second glass, but wisely placed it to the side when she realized it was empty. "My point is this: your existence is vital to Telemachus' survival. I have an intuition that if you were to be taken from him in this life, he would hesitate not a second to follow you. Therefore, we have a debt of salvation for two Majorum lives to Mahala. I could override Jared's decision to put her away, but I will not, because it would irreparably damage his reputation and future career. The outcome would be disastrous for Terazed, and I will not jeopardize that for anything—wait, wait," she said as Stasia begged to interrupt.
"Not as Matriarch do I agree, but as a woman, I agree that Mahala's treatment was cruel and unjust. Her actions were noble and as Majorum Matriarch I am indebted to her, and will further see that she is well-rewarded in whatever way you and Telemachus deem fit."
This seemed to remove a great weight and the tension drained from Stasia's face. Her smile was brilliant as she pressed her forehead to the Matriarch's hands in submissive gratitude. "Know this also. In my mind and heart, and I speak now as your Matriarch and Telemachus' grandmother, your union with him has been established some time ago and I would be remiss to not be aware of that. It lacks only a formal publishing and the honor of a marriage celebration so that your families may bestow their good wishes upon you. Regardless of what decision you may be able to coerce my grandson into, you are and will always remain first wife to Telemachus, with all the rights and privileges inherent to that title. As Matriarch, that is my decree."
"You mean…?" she asked hopefully.
"I mean that you should do as you think best. If you can convince Mahala to offer my stubborn grandson a proposal, I will do whatever is in my power to try and encourage him to accept it. I will not force him into a marriage against his will, although I could; to do so would be a grave misuse of my authority as Matriarch. If you cannot convince your Wayist savior to offer the proposal, or if Telemachus continues to be a stubborn Rhade male and absolutely will not accept this female, then the matter is settled. If this is the case, you have my word that I will try—as both Matriarch and a woman—to find a husband who will provide security and restore her lost status. Regardless of the outcome, Mahala will be held in highest esteem by Pride Majorum from this day forward."
"Oh, Matriarch, thank you! Thank you!" Stasia knelt in the floor and hugged the Matriarch's legs.
The older woman pulled her back onto the divan. "Don't thank me yet, child. You have much work to do if you hope to accomplish this thing and make it succeed. Even if you succeed and there is a proposal offered and accepted, you do realize that there will be much gossip and talk about this, don't you?"
She nodded.
"We must work together, then, and prepare some contingencies," the Matriach stated. "It will come to pass that you will be a wife to Telemachus. It takes no great genius to see that this path has been pre-ordained, if such a thing exists. Further, it takes no stretch of imagination to also see that Mahala is of acceptable marriageable age and you are not. In addition, it is more than appropriate that Telemachus should take a mate by this time, given his age, so there will be little outcry on that issue. As for Telemachus, it is fortunate for him that there is not as great a degree of discrimination toward vanity in military circles as there exists in the political arena. Mahala's physical imperfections should have little impact on his continued success in his career. Her Wayist philosophies will challenge his thinking, but this is always good to force a military mind to consider new alternatives."
"We have the matter of children to deal with, Matriarch," Stasia said. "Sadly, I have conducted tests myself. Mahala will never conceive a child, so it wouldn't have mattered if she and my brother had tried for a hundred years, it never would have happened. He was correct in assuming that she was infertile. Worse yet, we are years, maybe generations away from the techniques that would allow us to retroactively correct chromosomal defects and cause an infertile female of that type to conceive."
"I had thought as much, child. How then do you propose to rectify that? Telemachus needs children, should have already had several by now. The echelon of his profession will look unfavorably upon a male with a first wife unable to bear his children."
"I will be able to conceive, Matriarch, and I will bear as many Rhade offspring as is possible. You are more than correct in your statements, of course. I've thought of this already. Telemachus and I will conceive a child and I will transplant that embryo into Mahala. She's perfectly capable of growing that child within her own womb. I can alter enough of the fetal DNA so that even under the most stringent tests, it will appear that the child belongs to her and Telemachus."
"And you will be able to bear this burden, seeing a barren woman cradle your child and have all of Terazed believe it is hers?"
"I will give Telemachus the children he deserves, and I will do it by whatever means possible, Matriarch. I will be her co-wife in two short years. I will be no different from the generations of co-wives who have come before me. I will assume the responsibility for those children and for the children that I personally bear to Telemachus. Only we four ever need to know the truth behind the conception and the details that follow. I'm advanced enough in my studies, Matriarch, that I can see to these tasks myself. I only need access to a lab of sufficient quality and the privacy to conduct the procedure."
The Matriarch nodded. "I approve. Go now to Telemachus. Send him to me. You should then go and speak of these things to Mahala. Come back to me with her decision."
With a respectful bow, Stasia left. Her heart was light and she fought the urge to skip toward the door. Perhaps this might work after all!