Through the Vortex
Bane's Deisre
Part 7 - Rub a Dub Dub, Two Men in a Tub

My moment of bliss, spent thoroughly enjoying the hot water in the enormous sunken bathtub, came to an abrupt end when a pair of bare legs settled against my upper arms. I whipped my head around and was shocked to find Mueller sitting on the step behind me... completely naked. "What the hell is this?" I yelled, flinging myself away from him and into the opposite end of the mini pool. I turned around, purposely staying under the water in a crouched position with my eyes narrowed and pinned on the man sitting unabashedly naked on the second step, the water lapping at his trim and pale skinned waist.

"I am attempting to bathe you," Mueller answered, once again looking confused by my behavior. "My task will be difficult to accomplish with you over there."

"Listen," I began, out of patience. "I'm a grown man and I know how to take a damn bath all by myself."

The blond just blinked at me, apparently not comprehending. "I have bathed you daily since your arrival eight turns ago. Why would you not trust me to cleanse your body now?"

I covered my face with my hands and vigorously rubbed at it, trying to wake myself up from the persistent nightmare that never seemed to end. Where were those damn ruby slippers when you needed them? I asked myself, remembering something from an ancient movie about clicking the heels of ruby shoes in order to go home. And believe me, I really did want to go home, to Heero, to the familiar and to my friends.

Reluctantly opening my eyes I could see the other man holding his hand out to me. "Come, Duwan," he beckoned, endlessly patient. "You are once again discomposed and I am at a loss to fully understand why that is so. Let me cleanse your hair. It always makes you feel more at ease and joyful."

The offer to have someone wash my hair just happens to be one of my weaknesses, and with the way my body ached I realized it would be the sensible thing to do in accepting the offer, especially in light of the growing itch that had begun on my scalp that reminded me how dirty it and my hair was. Besides, who knew what I picked up in the vortex? Keeping as much of myself under the water as possible, I moved back towards the naked man, averting my eyes as I approached my original place on the lower stair. I quickly turned and sat down again, resigning myself to having someone other than me or Heero grooming my hair. I silently scolded myself for giving in so easily, but rationalized my capitulation to the fact that I was just too sore and wrung out emotionally to do a proper job of washing the mass of hair myself.

Mueller proved to have a gentle almost magical touch and I found myself hard pressed to keep my eyes open as warm shampoo was gently worked into my scalp. It smelled of something exotic and floral, and the enticing scent filled the air around us. In order to stay alert to my surroundings and not cause a scene by unintentionally dozing off under the gentle administrations, I began to talk. I figured that with the way my luck was going I'd probably nod off and fall backwards, causing my weary head to fall between the legs of the naked guy behind me. How embarrassing would that be?

"All right, let's see if I've got this right," I began, my eyes closing. I intended to restate everything I'd learned from my caretaker as he'd fed me my meal earlier, reinforcing it in my mind. "There are six color levels in the order of Erith, each one having different tasks to perform."

"That is correct," Mueller said, massaging my scalp in a damn wonderful way.

"The top level is Blue, and those within that color are highborn. Blue governs Erith. One can only become Blue by having been born to it and by being female. Next comes Red," I continued. "This color serves Blue in a supporting role as Blue governs Erith, right?"

"Your words confuse me, Duwan, but yes, I believe you are saying the meaning correctly."

Sadly, I perfectly understood his confusion. He wasn't the only one confused. I was struggling to understand just what he meant most of the time but, somehow, I found that the more he talked the easier it was getting to figure it out. I continued on with my understanding of Red, starting where I left off. "Red is comprised of both males and females. It is the highest color rank a male citizen can attain."

"Ci-ta-zen?" Mueller slowly parroted the word back to me. "I believe you intended to say civvie," the other man corrected me while his gentle fingers combed through my hair working out any knotted strands they came upon, and believe me, they came upon plenty. Still, it felt heavenly to have someone's fingers in my hair and massaging my scalp. I pretty much melted under his soothing touch. A spray of warm water began to shower down on my head and I tilted my chin up to keep the soap from getting into my eyes.

"Purple," I continued, "are the color rank from which the Chosen are selected. Their purpose is to serve those of Blue and Red who require and contract their services. Those Purple not selected to be a Chosen serve not only the upper colors, but also those within Purple who have been selected and... contracted."

"Correct."

"I still don't think I get it," I confessed to the man behind me, then yawned. Even though I'd had plenty of sleep already, I felt sleepy from the combination of warm water and the head massage. "Blue, Red and Purple represent the three upper colors of your society. The other half, considered the lower colors, are Yellow, Green and White. The Green have the white collar jobs while Yellow and White do the manual labor, the blue color work."

"What was that?" Mueller's fingers stopped moving. "I believe you have misspoken. Green do not perform as White, and White and Yellow do not lead as Blues."

I had to think about what he'd just said for a couple of long moments before I realized that, of course, he didn't know the earth terms for white and blue collar workers. I tilted my head back further to look up into his face. "By white collar I mean people who work in offices, they own businesses. Yellow, as you explained to me, are those who do the grunt work, the manual labor."

"Ah," the blond said, giving a nod of his head that he understood, but the dazed look in his eyes showed me that he really didn't.

"Now Whites," I continued with my understanding of the colors, "being the lowest of colors, are frowned upon and have very few rights."

"No... entitlements," Mueller nodded, and I guessed that I was the word they used here.

"They do the lowest, most demeaning work on Erith and in Sangor. Whites are entirely dependent on the upper colors' mercy and charity for their food and shelter."

Mueller interrupted me again to add, "Whites are reputedly lazy and corruptive, but they can become productive civvies by being utilized by Yellow or Green. They have no opportunity to rise in color nor to return to their former color. Whites are either born within that color rank or they are those civvies of the upper colors that choose to break the Order of Erith or their contracts. Those oath breakers have their true colors stripped from them and they become White."

"Poor bastards," I muttered darkly. "If this society doesn't believe they have any worth, they'll probably live to fulfill that fate. Either that or rise up and rebel."

Ignoring my statement, the blond man continued. "You needn't chafe over the Whites, Duwan, for you have no occasion to come into contact with them. The upper colors interact primarily with each other, though Yellow and Green serve us also. We, as Purple, are cared for by our Choosers and Contractors, and we serve only our superiors or those of our own color, not the lower three."

"Why?" I asked, still not grasping this type of caste system.

"Because we are Chosen and potential Chosen."

"But what exactly does that mean?"

The man behind me sighed, but remained patient as he answered me. "Mistra Hildah's occupation is that of being a Seeker. Do you recall this?"

I shook my head, being perfectly honest.

"She locates and matches Choosers with potential Chosen. As an illustration, I remind you of Mistra Relna, a Highborn Blue. She enlisted Mistra Hildah's services and provided her with a list of attributes she desired in a Chosen. After searching Purples' registry for suitable candidates, our Mistra selected three from which Mistra Relna met and then chose Herron. Together, they will produce offspring of which the females will become Blue when they are born and the male progeny will become a dark Purple and await the day he will become a Chosen."

"This is what I don't understand," I told him. I just couldn't wrap my mind around everything I was being told. "Could you explain to me why the females are given royal status and the males become Purple? And where do the Reds come from again?"

"Our society is Matriarchal, ruled solely by Blue, females all," Mueller replied, speaking slowly. "Red males are the progeny of a Blue and Red creating a male child together without a Chosen's seedlings involved. When Reds contract with Purple, the female progeny of that union become Red, the males Purple."

My mind was spinning trying to figure out that bit of information, but I think I got it, kind of. I glanced back at him only to have Mueller focus more intently on what he was doing, washing my hair. I got an odd feeling just then that he was leaving something out of his explanation. Then again it could just be the way he explained it that had me feeling a bit lost. I decided to go on to the next subject. "So women rule this world entirely? How did that happen?" I wasn't against women in power, but the fact that only women could rule seemed odd. Frankly, this whole system seem unbelievably strange to me. I really didn't have anything to compare it to other than reading about the caste system in the ancient Central American societies and in parts of old India.

"Almost four centonese ago, the highborn males were the predominant rulers of Erith, each autonomous of each other. Their differing ruling systems were constantly out of harmony with each other and brought about conflict and violent confrontations in order to solve their differences. These confrontations resulted in ending the lives of millions of Erithians. As the conflicts raged they escalated towards the total annihilation of all peoples of Erith. The females, who had been left behind to keep stable their abodes, took over the ruling occupations left behind by their warring males. Soon they rose within the governing bodies of their individual sectors and those older males, unable to battle and having been left behind as caretakers of the order and whose ways and thoughts followed those of their progenitors, were either killed outright or under questionable circumstances. Their female counterparts, their mates, birth givers and female offspring, came into power. They collaborated with females in other sectors and together they brought about an end to the deadly fighting. They set their ambitions towards reconfiguring our civilization into the Primary System that we have today. Since the majority of the male population perished in the fighting, the females re-ordered our society in such a way that they could govern the masses in an orderly fashion. The ranks of color were conceived and the surviving population of Erith was assigned into three colors: Blue for the reigning leaders of Erith and their progeny; Red, their auxiliary aids; and Yellow, the workers that produced all the material needs for Erith's civvies. Purple and Green came about much later as Erith changed and needs unfolded with Whites appearing after that as groups of dissenters and contract breakers were revealed."

"Did they eliminate all violent conflicts with this color system?" I asked, intrigued by the idea.

"Yes. Virtually no violent confrontations have occurred on Erith since that last great and destructive disagreement." Warm water was suddenly falling on the top of my head again and I turned slightly to see Mueller holding a hand unit that appeared to come out of the top edge of the tub. It pulsated streams of deliciously warm water and felt wonderful.

"So I'm a Purple, which means I'm the byproduct of a Purple and Red or a Blue and Purple?" I asked, my eyes closed as soap was rinsed from my hair and head.

"Your predecessors are a dark Red and mid-color Purple, giving you a higher shade of Purple than I."

"There's even a distinction of color within a color?"

"Did you not notice Herron's color is darker than yours, or that yours is darker than my own?" I had noticed it, but hadn't really thought about it. "Herron's color is darker in shade than ours because his progenitors were Blue and dark Purple. He comes from the sector of Japai and his darker Purple makes him an appropriate Chosen for Mistra Relna, a deep shade of Blue."

"So where are my parents?"

"Parents? Do you mean progenitors?"

"Ah, yeah, I guess so," I answered, bringing my fingertips up to my right temple and gingerly rubbing small circles on the tender area. The whole conversation was giving me a headache, trying to figure out the similar but different terms Muller was using.

"Once you are contracted as a Chosen you are no longer bound to your progenitors. You were raised a Purple and to be a Chosen. Being contracted as a Chosen you fulfill your true purpose, and your progenitors' obligation to you is fulfilled as well."

I had to chew on that for a few moments, and even as I did Mueller wrung out my hair and twisted it to rest on top of my head. If I understood him correctly, family ties were cut the moment a Purple contracted to become a Chosen. That just didn't seem right. I'd never had a family before, other than the gang on the streets of L2 and the kids at the orphanage

He continued speaking as soft cloth with a warm gel on it was pressed against my shoulder. "Mistra Hildah had word of you even before you were old enough to be presented for choosing. She did some preliminary research, finding you well-matched. And the init she saw your image, she knew you were to be her own Chosen. Her relations and good favor with Blue all but assured she would gain your attention before any other Reds or Blues were allowed to meet you or bid for your contract."

Some of what he was saying was very disturbing. "Are Purples slaves?" I was trying to figure out what my role was in this strange world.

"Slaves." The blond sounded confused and I jumped, slightly startled, as his hand, covered with the soaped cloth moved under the water to cross over my stomach. "Unpaid labor. Owned."

The blond's forehead wrinkled as he struggled to understand. Then his eyes widened with understanding. "No, not uncompensated nor possessed, but contracted," he said firmly, and still I couldn't figure out what the hell he meant. He stopped speaking for a while as he washed my back, hands and arms and then moved to the side of me in order to reach my legs. I can't even tell you how weird that was, having someone lift your legs and meticulously wash them. With my hands in my lap, providing some covering and protection, I grit my teeth together in order to not yell at him to stop, knowing he was only doing what he'd been contracted to do.

The water was now a small sea of foam and floating soap scum as he moved toward what I considered the untouchable regions of my body, at least for him. I abruptly grabbed the cloth from his encroaching hand and gave him a vicious glare. "Don't even think about it, buddy" I snarled in warning. Then turning slightly, I took care of the rest of my bath.

After I finished, he took my hand and stood, pulling me up with him. "Come, stand on the drying cloth and I will remove the water from off your body. And yes," he said firmly, anticipating my next question. "I have to do this. It is part of my contract to care for you in all ways."

I bit my lip again, embarrassed once more as Mueller used small squares of an extremely soft and absorbent material to pat the dampness from almost every inch of my skin. He then meticulously worked to dry my hair as I stood stark naked before him. I ground my teeth together, cursing the man's thoroughness and wondering if he was ever going to finish. Just as that thought came to me, he straightened and looked me in the eye as he took my hand. "Come," he told me.

I was led out of the bathing room, back into the bedroom. Mueller left me standing in the middle of the floor watching him as he moved towards a seemingly blank wall. As he approached it, a door I hadn't previously seen slid open and revealed a large closet. I groaned at seeing that the space was filled with clothing, all in the same purple color as my arm band. Mueller selected several items and then moved to open a drawer inside the alcove and pulled something out of it. He straightened and turned to me with a warm smile on his face, but said not a word as he set the clothing on the end of the bed. I blushed as the naked man walked towards me with a very small article of clothing in his hand and knelt in front of me. Thankfully he kept his eyes averted from my groin. I didn't know if I had the patience to deal with him staring at me.

"Lift your foot and we'll put on your supportive garment." He spread the so-called supportive garment open with his hands and held it in readiness.

In shock, I complied automatically and put my left foot into the circle, and then did the same the other. I stood rigid as he pulled it up my legs and set the minuscule piece of material in place.

Standing at my side, Mueller looked at my face, probably seeing my coloring had turned several shades of red that was darker than normal. "You are not pleased?" he asked.

"Real men don't wear thongs," I told him through gritted teeth.

"Are you referring to your support garment?" he asked innocently.

"Of course I am!" I snapped back. I hooked my thumb into the piece of cloth held up by two elastic strings that rested high on my hip and pulled it out. "This is a woman's undergarment," I told him indignantly.

"This garment is worn by both males and females, with allowances for their differences.

"Everyone wears this?" I swallowed nervously. If that was true, then I figured I was doomed to wear the damned uncomfortable underwear, with the piece of irritating material perpetually stuck firmly between my butt cheeks. How many rings of hell are there?

"Yes."

I groaned at his answer.

"I don't understand," Mueller said, perplexed once again. "You've always worn this type of garment without stating any dissatisfaction."

"We'll maybe the vortex changed me a lot more than you think it did," I snapped back.

The blond looked at me with an expression that became more and more alarmed with each passing moment. His eyes moved up and down my body and made me feel uncomfortable, considering my state of undress. "You are changed, more than just your outward appearance," he said thoughtfully.

"And more than you can imagine," I replied, but stopped short of going further, not knowing what the consequences would be if it was found out that I was from another world.

"Are you not Duwan," he said, dropping all pretense of being the dutiful servant.

I cleared my throat nervously and closely studied his face before deciding whether or not I should tell him the truth. I could deny it, of course, but he was evidently in close contact with me all the time. It was clear that I couldn't pull the wool over his eyes, especially in light of the fact that he'd already guessed that I wasn't Duwan. "I'm called Duo," I confessed quietly. "I think your Duwan and I traded places in the storm, as you call it. If I'm right, he's in my world, which is in another place and maybe even another time."

A look of deeper intelligence that I'd not seen before entered Mueller's eyes. I could see that he accepted my answer, which surprised me. He leaned forward to whisper into my ear, causing me to lean my body away from his close proximity in order to keep him from touching my exposed flesh.

"If what you say is true," he began, his voice very low, "then you must be a good pretender. Mistra Hildah expended a prestigious sum in order to make a contract with Duwan. If you are indeed his duplicate from another place and have traded lives with him, you will be expected to live up to his contract or your color will be stripped from you. You will become an outcast, a White. Do you fully understand what that means?"

I blinked at the sudden change in the man and at his warning. I knew from our earlier conversation that White was the bottom of this society, the outcasts. I'd been an outcast before on L2 and thought that I could survive it if I had to. Before I could answer, the blond continued.

"You will be without rank, without entitlements or protection. You will also find yourself at the lower end of White's hierarchy, at the mercy of the lowest of the low, a desperate and dishonorable people. You would be used and abused, neglected and discarded, mostly by those of the White bands who know little of compassion or decency."

His words shook me to the core. Having been at the lower dregs of L2's society as a child and miraculously escaping it, I vowed to never find myself in those circumstances again. If I understood Mueller right, to be stripped of my color in this world basically meant being sentenced to a life time of cruelty, ending only in a horrible death.

"Mistra Hildah was proud and exultant in securing Duwan as her Chosen, and he was well on his way to completing his contract to her. She has taken good care of him and will continue to do so for you. Should he return one day, if you exchange places once again, you would not want the responsibility for his being stripped of his color and set in a place where he would be unable to survive, would you?"

He stepped back to look at me and I answered with a shake of my head, trying to imagine the pampered person Duwan had to be with all the care that he'd been given. What would happen if he were placed in a purported cesspool of criminals, as the Whites were said to be? Then the rest of what Mueller had spoken of came rushing back to my mind.

What if we switched places again?

A flicker of hope lit in my heart. I knew that if I were in Heero's place and he'd disappeared on me, I'd do everything in my power to bring him back, even if we were having problems, even if I thought he was dead. I'd have the scientists recreate the failed experiment and figure out a way to bring him back. But then I wondered if my line of thinking was based on my desire to return home. If Heero was cheating on me, would this be an easy way to end our relationship so that he and Trowa could be together? I mentally shook my head at that. My last image of Heero, of his calling out my name with an anguished look on his face, made me think that he still cared deeply for me. I just hoped he would be able to tell the difference between Duwan and myself, that is if Duwan had taken my place as I had taken his.

"What's Duwan like?" I asked, curious about my counterpart.

Mueller's face softened and a gentle smile graced his lips, showing he had real affection for Duwan. "My Task is kind and thoughtful, compassionate in many ways though naive and indulged. He is duty bound even though he felt fearful of fulfilling the contract with Mistra HIldah."

"He was afraid of her?" I wondered.

"Mistra Hildah has been firm with Duwan. He was trained a Purple, but he balked at some of the demands put on him though he fully intends to fulfill his contract."

"Which is?" Finally, I was about to find out what this whole business was about.

"To aid Mistra Hildah in bringing her progeny to life and to continue the Red and Purple legacies."

I felt a lump in my throat the size of a bowling ball and I couldn't seem to swallow it. My voice came out a squawk when I managed to ask, "We're a couple? Are we married?"

"You're contracted," Mueller corrected me, frowning at my foreign words.

"Is there such a thing as marriage in your world?"

"I do not know that word," the blond replied.

"It's when two people are willingly and legally joined together by a priest or some kind of judge or justice of the peace and they live happily ever after." I knew my answer was pretty lame, but my mind was somewhat scrambled at that moment.

Mueller's frown deepened, no doubt trying to process what I was saying. "What you describe sounds like a contract to me. Mistra HIldah found and selected Duwan, offered him a contract with many rewards for his service and he agreed. The contract was witnessed by Relna and given her approval. Duwan then came here to live in Mistra Hildah's abode, under her care and protection. Duwan contracted to give her two progeny and you, or rather, Duwan, was in the process of taking the heramones to prepare for that time."

Whatever the other man had to say after that was pretty much lost on me. I was married to Hildah the Red in this world. I was supposed to have sex with the person who looked like my good female and very platonic friend and get her pregnant with two babies. Frankly, I was horrified by the idea. I'd never thought of Hilde as anything other than a friend, not to mention that I'd only had sex with Heero. I was stumped as to how in the hell I was going to be able to successfully pull off this contract. I put my hand to my head as the headache I'd had for a while intensified.

"You appear well-worn," Mueller said in a concerned tone of voice. "I will clothe you shortly before your appearance before Mistrah Hildah. Rest now while I straighten your resting and bathing space."

I closed my eyes, wishing more than anything that when I opened them I'd be back on Earth and in my life. As usual, my wishes weren't granted. Mueller led me by the hand to the bed and tucked me under the thick coverlet. The sheets felt soft and smooth against my skin. It was odd, I thought, to have someone being so solicitous of me, not that Heero didn't ever do that because he did, not usually to this extent. I laid there with disjointed thoughts bouncing around my head, feeling sleepy and more comfortable than I'd been since my arrival in Erith. I could hear the other man moving quietly about the room and after a while I slipped into a restless doze. The conversation I had with Mueller regarding Erith, the color ranks and Duwan's contract with Mistra Hildah repeated over and over in my mind, conjuring up all kinds of nightmares and kept me from having any kind of meaningful rest.

TBC

Author's hint. I hope that wasn't too confusing. Don't be fooled about Duo's assumptions about his relationship with Hildah - remember the posted pairings. Duo is still trying to guess at how things work on Erith and his relationship with Hildah is not quite what he imagines it to be.