Escaping a Gilded Cage

"This is not due to the Fliescher's Nectar. There have been many strange wave lengths in the Silver Sky spectrum: They could account for the changes."

"So you wish. Share the data with me."

"How dare you! You are a Btet; you have no part in deciding for the Swarm. You will accept how I touch you and not complain. The Gimmels will recover soon, and things will return to normal."

"Do we got to savor the Fliescher's Nectar?"

"What sacrilege! How dare you? Is it not enough that I share the feelings with you and the Gimmel?"

Wailing from the distance. "I'm not sure the Gimmels are doing well with this sharing."

"You exaggerate."

A long, still pause isolated them. It was well past Silver Sky time when Rleia touched another message to her prima-partner. "Why did you not drop your pollen at Glare-dusk?"

"I did."

"When? Where? I felt nothing in the Mating Glade as we passed here."

"Did it earlier. Must have blow away."

Rleia sunk below the surface of the porgor bath. Her tendrils quivered incoherently. Xnaphor grew rigid, barely absorbing nourishment, his feeding array exhausted.

***********

"Tell me about the Medusa. Why are they called that?"

"It's obvious: they're real ugly. Every guy who's got a glance at them has major league freaked, and refused to enter the Table. Last year we had a guy who screamed himself to sleep after getting a glance at them."

"What happened to him?"

"Larry beat'im to death."

"Oh. Larry is building up much negative Karma."

Brendan scratched his face again. "You keep talkin' about Karma. It doesn't seem to do much good."

"All our actions bear consequences. Staying here is a great Karmic burden, lost in sensations that bind one to suffering. You fail to grow, to progress."

The scruffy man chuckled. "All right, but we're stuck here and we can't get out. Musta done somethin' bad to get here, I guess."

"It does not matter. We must do the best we can."

A door opened noisily. "All right, where's the jackass who didn't do his duty today?"

Brendan slunk away. Lobsang stood up from his bunk, hands to his side. "I am the one you speak of."

Larry stomped over and glared at the shorter man. "Who the hell do you think you are? I told you: I'm in charge and I make the rules. You enjoy getting your rod polished three times a week, live this cushy life and don't make trouble. You hear?"

"I cannot live with that."

"It's that or you don't live, if you get my drift."

"I get your drift. It is unacceptable."

Larry stamped his feet and turned in several quick circles. "Let me make this clear to you, as if I didn't last night. I make the rules here. You break the rules, you defy the rules, you suffer."

"You are a willing jailer. You stay in this place, existing in a gilded cage, building your negative Karma, a cultivator of decay."

"Shut up, damn you."

"No, I will not be silent. Submitting to injustice is not right. It is a perpetuation of suffering."

"Then I will perpetuate some suffering myself!" Larry strode forward, a maniacal rictus frozen on his face. The other men in the room turned to watch, having seen Larry visit his brand of justice before and eager to see a rare drama played out in front of them.

But Lobsang did not cower. He stood calmly as Larry approached, and blocked the first roundhouse punch easily with lightning speed. Larry threw punch after punch, trying to beat the Tibetan into submission, but the smaller man dodged and blocked every blow with ease. The big man backed off and readied for a counter attack; none came. Lobsang stood peacefully, his eyes wide open, breathing slowly and deeply, ready for anything.

Larry screamed in frustration. The other men shifted uncomfortably, aware of the meaning of this confrontation. The bully rushed forward, trying to grapple and overwhelm the rebel. Lobsang dipped easily and flipped his adversary, avoiding the bearhug and turning as his adversary hit the wall. The big man lay there for a moment, recovering his senses.

"This is useless, Larry," Lobsang said calmly. "Be reasonable, give up. Your efforts are futile. Accept change and learn."

"Never," he screamed and rushed again. Again the younger man dipped, stepped easily aside and flipped his opponent over.

"Kill, kill, kill, kill," the others in the room began to chant, led by Brendan. They were pounding the walls, the cots and the floor, shouting. Lobsang stood placidly toward the center of the room next to the main table, his arms crossed. "Why don't ya kill'im?" a voice cried.

"It would not be right," the monk replied.

Larry touched his brow and found a red stream leaking from his eyebrow. Reclining, he was at peace for a moment, but the monster revived and he got up to make another rush. The monk was unaffected, waiting patiently, which infuriated the big man more. Like an enraged bull, he got up and gathered himself for another offensive.

Once again, the smaller man managed to move enough to flip the maniac over his shoulder, but due to the table behind him and the specific physics of the big man's trajectory, he spun over the table as he flew, coming down on his shoulder blade with a sickening crunch. The room erupted in celebratory bedlam.

A high, keening sound overrode the shouting men, who immediately dove into their cots with their heads under their pillows. "What's going on?" Lobsang asked.

Brendan poked his head out. "The Medusas're coming. Hide your eyes, hide your eyes or lose your mind forever." He ducked back out of side, shaking with fear.

A few moments later, the door opened, and several beings entered the room. Their locomotion resembled tumbleweeds, rolling quickly into the room and up to the supine man. The Medusa's colors were harshly bright reds, yellows, blues and greens, and their tendrils writhed in complex, electric patterns. Larry was sobbing quietly, but nothing was moving other than his face.

Lobsang watched their ministrations placidly, and shortly a self propelled stretcher arrived in the room. The Tibetan was amazed at the thoughts he could read from the natives. The fluctuations of their tendrils were communication, but his senses were tuned finely enough that their surface thoughts were perceptible. Their mental powers were great: Larry floated up and over gently to rest on the stretcher.

Who are you? Came a thought.

A stranger. A passer by. How goes the big man.

Hlari is damaged. Did you damage him?

He damaged himself. The others will attest this. Can you tell how damaged?

His main stem is broken just above the juncture of the upper branches. He will need special care. We will take him; we have the means to care for him.

I will not hinder you.

You will take his place. You can communicate with us better than he can. You are a more intelligent being.

We shall see.

There were different voices in the group that entered the room, and Lobsang focused on one briefly before they left. The Medusas tumbled out of the room, and the door closed.

*******************

"Will Hlari live?"

"Yes. With the equipment he brought with him, we can sustain him indefinitely. We also have a two year supply of the necessary 'thrugs' he needs to stay alive."

Rleia drooped. "Why not put him out of his misery? He is broken and will be difficult to maintain. Is his nectar that sweet?"

A long pause. Xnaphor continued his feverish work, and Larry moaned. The Medusan looked at the computer readout, and was satisfied. "It will not be beyond my capabilities. I will take personal responsibility for Hlari, from now on. You may take over dealing with the others."

"Excellent. I will talk with Hlohbzang in the morning to set up the new relationship."

"As you wish, my Alpeh."

*******************

Lobsang walked in the silver night alone. The vegetation was a strange shade of green that glowed in the diffuse light from the planet's night. There were huge dots of light in a faint white gleam that almost overcame the darkness. He regarded the scene with interest as he strolled, confident that his exposure to the outdoors would not harm him unless he spent a week unprotected.

A Medusa rolled up, one of the attendants to the ruler. Its tendrils rustled excitedly, and its thoughts were strong and energetic as they crossed his mind.

You came to see me.

Yes. I need your help.

You want to leave.

Yes.

I want you to leave. I want all your kind to leave our world and return to your homes. The Fliescher have been a curse to our kind. We will diminish and die if you stay. But we will not kill you to preserve ourselves, we are better than you. I will show you the way home.

Tell me the way.

There is a small ship, capable of interstellar flight. It is shielded against the hraidiazion and will reach your garden. We will not resist when your Alpehs come to fetch your Btets.

I can leave now.

No. It will be Glaretime before it is my turn to guard the ship. And I must exact the price.

You did not say anything about a price earlier.

But there must be one.

And it is.

I must taste the nectar once. I must feel for myself the intoxication that has warped my mate.

Lobsang pondered this for several long moments. This is a great price. Much Karma will be lost.

If you do not wish to pay the price, you will stay. I shall find other means to uproot this curse.

The death of all humans on this planet?

What else will do?

The fronds of the vegetation swayed in the breeze. The Medusa was unnaturally still as it awaited the answer.

**************

"Why d'ya have ta go?" Brendan asked Lobsang as he prepared to leave.

"It is the only way to preserve our Karma and that of the Medusa race."

"We're safe here. We got Larry's vitamins now, we won't die of malnutrition. I'm a pilot; I can take over the trade."

"Which is dishonest, and will bring shame on all of you. I cannot permit that." A chorus of weak groans objected to the Tibetan's plan.

Brendan shook his head. "We can't stop you," he said flatly. "I'm the most fit here, but since Larry couldn't force you, I sure can't. What's the price?"

"I must give one of them some of my nectar."

"Ah, they're got a traitor. I thought they were completely inhuman."

"No, this one is not an Alpeh, the first caste. This is a Btet, the second gender, who tends the garden and facilitates the next generation."

"The wives."

"Not quite. There is a third gender, the Gimmels, who combine the pollen of the Alpehs and the Btets with a special enzyme to germinate sprouts, which they call 'Spawnlings'. The Nectar of the Fliescher, as they call it, impedes this process as well as making the Alpehs addicted and less efficient in their other work."

Brendan scratched his face. "Like they're alkies."

"A crude way to put it, but accurate."

"And the missus wants a bite of the apple before she gets kicked out of Eden. Sure you're up to snuff, big boy? You could resist when none o'us could."

"I can focus my concentration to intensify the experience as well as detach myself from it. It will be sufficient."

Brendan stuck out his hand. "You're a strange dude, Lobsang." The Tibetan nodded and left without a word.

**************

Larry came to lying flat on his back. A harsh light was above him, and two Medusae were bending over him. He tried to move, unsuccessfully. "Shit, that was some landing," he murmured.

"Yes," chimed the vocalizer, "you came down very hard. How do you feel?"

"Not bad, not bad, but I can't move my arms or legs."

"It is as we expected," came the mechanical reply. "You have a broken stem that will impede your limbs."

"You mean I'm paralyzed?" came the anguished reply. Larry's face contorted.

"Yes, that is what your library computer indicated."

His eyes began to dart around. Xnaphor rested at his bedside, with his friend Tshmiliak. "Do not worry, Hlari, we will take care of you. We have the data and we have the means, thanks to your preparations."

He gritted his teeth. "I want to go home," he wailed. "They can regenerate my spinal cord and I can walk and have a normal life again. I'll come back. It'll be business as usual."

"We cannot risk that, Hlari. It is risky enough that your contacts outside the Nebula know of our existence; if someone should hear you speak while 'sedated', we are vulnerable."

"What do ya mean?"

"We have all the equipment and drugs to sustain your life. Your Nectar limb is still capable of producing. That is all we care about."

"But the stranger called Lobsang might escape and betray everything."

Xnaphor leaned close and the vocalizer took a harsh tone. "We will give them the other humans, and tell them you are dead. They will leave us alone, but we will be able to sustain you for a long time."

"But not forever!" he wailed.

"Nothing is forever, Hlari," Xnaphor said, "and I will savor your precious nectar as long as you can produce it."

Larry started screaming and screaming. The Medusans had no ability to hear sound waves, or see his face, so his efforts were in vain.

**************

It was in the bright light of day when Lobsang met Rleia near the shelter that housed his hope of departure. The greens took on an odd hue in the glare, tossing gently in the breeze. The Medusa's appearance was more garish, but Lobsang's discipline served him well in controlling his revulsion. Rleia swayed and twitched nervously in anticipation.

I take the monitor position soon. Are you ready to pay the price?

Yes. How is this done?

First, you must disrobe. There is a hilika plant that Larry used to sit upon daily when he met Xnaphor. Sitting on the plant, you will lean back and relax: I will do the rest

Your knowledge from Xnaphor's mind will guide you?

Yes. None of my tendrils or branches can harm you. I long to feel your nectar on my own fronds, rather than the echo of Xnaphor's feeling.

Let us begin.

Lobsang's body was long and lean, but not emaciated. His proportions were average in every way. Rleia was tentative and clumsy as she initiated contact, but as the first drops of dew touched her, she relaxed and focused more. Once again, it felt like soft grass fronds were stroking his skin, and Lobsang willed his muscles to relax as the wild colored being started covering his pelvis. The morass of writhing tendrils grew thicker and encompassed more skin, massaging the lubricating fluids efficiently, intensifying his arousal. He was not a virgin when he entered the Sangha, but he was amazed that the soft, tight grip covered his entire penis and testicles, massaging a myriad fantastic directions at once.

A tingling in his groin and an electricity in his lower Chakras indicated his culmination was near. He focused his awareness toward his lower extremities, diving deep into the sensations as the pressure began to build. Rleia caught the reflected sensation from his awareness psychically, and accelerated the movements eagerly in anticipation of reward.

The orgasm made him buckle and writhe, and he rode the wave to experience the sensation as fully as possible, since it would be the last time in his life. The Medusan quaked wildly as well, the Nectar being spread throughout its receptors to deepen the sensation. Neither were broadcasting coherent thoughts, living in the moment as long as possible.

Lobsang recovered and gently rolled Rleia off him. The native spun uncontrollably, then came to rest.

I hope this is what you wanted.

There as no reply. After restoring his clothes, he walked the path and found the portal to the shelter open, the ship a standard model. Larry had stashed it as an escape vessel, should he need one. It took Lobsang five minutes to familiarize himself with the controls, then he silently lifted off and ascended into the bright white sky.