Ahe'ey - 2 Gravitational Pull (2 page)

"Even if I did for a second, I have you here to remind me every single day of my life, Grandmother."

"Honour my fallen daughters and granddaughter by not allowing the one who keeps your bed warm at night to make you weak in the knees. Bastian's blind devotion to Gabriel is a threat to Ahe'ey."

"Bas and the Ma'asai will never betray us."

"Bastian is only interested in securing his place at the Throne. You are the last of the royal maidens of Ahe'ey. He wants to woo the best womb for his seed. Bed him; use him; marry him if you may, but don't let him own you."

With a few words from Amalia, the mightiest of all warriors turned into the abandoned young girl in the woods. The girl that had been foolish enough to trust a man. She bit her lip, absorbing her grandmother's reminder.

"Your attachment to your cousins weakens you. You're a fraud; a pussycat disguised as a tiger. When will you become the fearless warrior queen this land deserves? The influence of Viviane and Marcus is not good for you." Amalia galloped away. "And get rid of the human girl. She is a risk to Ahe'ey's security."

Manhood

Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

They went for a walk in the main area of the museum, and once again, Gabriel seemed to know exactly where to take her. They strolled by all the Impressionists, stopping to see Reclining Nude by Modigliani and Two Tahitian Women by Gauguin. Then they entered the Charles Engelhard Court, a glassed-in courtyard so that she could enjoy the Art Nouveau architectural elements and the large-scale American sculptures.

She noticed that several of the Met's security guards seemed to be following them from a distance. She assumed it was because Gabriel was so important for them. Once in a while, Gabriel nodded to the guards or stopped by to exchange a few words while she was enjoying the sculptures.

"They've increased security measures since the last time I was here," Morgan commented.

"Yes, they're monitoring every visitor because of the party tonight. We'll have many distinguished guests, including former presidents and diplomats."

"You can assure them that I'm not a terrorist. Although, I do have a reputation of asking people for funding in situations when it's difficult to say no." She raised her eyebrows and smiled cheekily.

"I expect nothing less from you."

They sat in the courtyard, enjoying the sunlight that illuminated the room through the glass ceiling and walls. In the basket, there were berries, fruitcake, juice, and a bottle of champagne. He opened the bottle and served her a glass.

"Thank you, this is delightful. Won't you have some bubbles?"

"I'm sorry, I don't drink alcohol, but I'll have some juice." He poured the juice into a champagne glass and toasted her with a smile.

"I guess that'll have to do," she said, rolling her eyes theatrically and then smiling. He smiled back, blushed, and bit his lip briefly.

There was something so genuine and affectionate about this man. The effect she had on him was surprising to her. Most of the time, he appeared guarded and somber, but beyond that invisible wall there seemed to be a great vulnerability. For a few moments, his discomfort allowed Morgan to relax and set aside her own inner gremlins.

Morgan moved her eyes away from his, to reduce some of the intensity of the interaction. There was a copy of the New York Times on the stone bench and she read the main headline:
22nd of November 2014, Water Zanus announces possible candidacy for President of the United States
.

"I don't know if I should laugh or cry," she said, picking up the newspaper.

"It's no laughing matter. Zanus has gathered an impressive number of supporters amongst the working class and social elite."

"But the man is a complete buffoon!"

"A very dangerous buffoon."

"There's no way he'll be successful. I've met him a couple of times. He's an offensive sorta fellow. He'll rub people in the wrong way. He's sexist, bigoted and racist. No one in their right mind will vote for Walter, especially the minorities."

"Don't underestimate him, Morgan. Many, especially men, see the rise of minorities as a threat to their cultural and economic dominance. White men are losing their jobs to women, minorities and people at the other end of the supply chain in third world countries. Beleaguered voters will support him in the hope that he will restore their vanished status."

"People won't take him seriously. This is the man that said on national TV that a woman's place is in the kitchen."

"That may indeed be his biggest strength."

"Are you serious? I can't believe you are legitimising Walter Zanus."

Morgan placed her glass down on the bench. Her irritated look proclaimed that she was ready for a heated debate.

"I'm not," he said, swiftly raising both hands, palms towards her, "his campaign dares to shatter taboos. Those who think privately what he speaks publicly perceive him as speaking truth to power. And, the journalists struggling with a broken business model are happy to use his sensationalist statements as clickbait. They are selling out in exchange for eyeballs that bring them advertising dollars. It's working in his favour."

"Sure, but progress is everywhere. You have an African American President in office, women and minorities are slowly gaining consumer power, and there are many good, progressive Caucasian men supporting them."

"Some, not all."

"Yeah, I know. But, I don't see how Zanus would ever get a serious shot at the White House. Plus, the jobless working class can't blame the minorities, it's the one percent who're stealing their economic power. And the software, the robots, the artificial intelligence and the value extraction economics."

"That's not what the clickbait headlines are selling to the masses in the US."

"Do you really think that Walter has a chance of becoming president in two years?"

"Yes, I do. I believe that, in the next few years, we are likely to experience a war between a large population of disenfranchised, jobless, Western Caucasian men and everyone else. The status quo is being disrupted, and they don't like it. Don't expect them to give up power willingly. The forces you challenge are dangerous and don't play fair or clean."

They sat there for a while in silence. Morgan was too shaken by the possibility of a future where Zanus was President of the United States. Gabriel broke the silence by talking about art and history. He explained that the Ange'el Foundation spent a lot of its resources on the preservation of artefacts from all over the world. He said that it was very sad how much great knowledge from ancient civilisations had been lost. They discussed her favourite sculpture, The Rape of the Sabine Women by Giambologna. She talked about the three-dimensional nature of that sculpture and how Giambologna was a master of turning marble into flesh. Gabriel continued to impress her with his knowledge of the things she loved most. He added that the actual Roman story did not include rape and that the word "rape," in this particular case, was derived from the Latin word "raptio," which meant "abduction." In return, she showed off her own knowledge of the tale.

"Women were once again both the victims and heroes of the story. The women ended the war by imploring to their Sabine fathers and their Roman husbands. Why are men so cruel?"

"You are full of contradictions Morgan. Is cruelty really a gendered quality?" He remarked, raising one eyebrow. She loved the way he challenged her with her own arguments. She shook her head in a gesture of hopelessness.

"Sometimes it's hard to believe in the goodness of men. The two hundred plus Chibok schoolgirls kidnapped by the Boko Haram are still missing. One day, if they are still alive, they too, may have to plead for their children and kidnapper husbands to their parents. I'm so sick of the violence of men trapped by prehistorical expectations of manhood."

"Manhood is, today, an uncertain, frail status that is easily threatened. Insecure men attempt to affirm their manliness physically and symbolically. Zanus's appeal speaks to the insecurities of men raised with traditional values; men trapped in a world that is pulling the rug under their feet and challenging everything they believe in."

"We're all to blame; we are teaching our daughters that they can be whatever they wish to be, while our boys are still hopelessly stuck in the man box." The thought of Zanus brought fire to her gut, the type of frustration she struggled to contain. "Sometimes it's difficult to take a peaceful stand when some men only understand the language of violence and war. These people don't want a fairer world; they want power, control and destruction. You don't see women acting like that."

His eyebrows sunk and his eyes focused on the floor. "Women are capable of as much destruction and greed as men."

"Give me one example of a place in the world where that happens."

"Perhaps one day," he murmured and changed the topic. "You won't find the magic of Giambologna here, but I trust you'll still enjoy the sculptures of the American masters."

"Indeed, it's not Florence nor the Louvre, but I can assure you it will do just fine. Unless you plan to fly me to Europe this evening?" She smiled, teasing him. He was so considerate and eager to please that she could not help but playfully retaliate with lighthearted irreverence.

He blushed. They both struggled to look into each other's eyes, constantly playing a game of hide-and-seek: brief eye contact followed by swift escapes away from the electric charge that rushed through their bodies every time their eyes met.

Illicit Lust

Ahe'ey

Quinn was practising her hunting skills by following unnoticed a small herd of white-tail deer. She laid on the ground hidden by a shrub of Sapote. The animals fled the site as Amalia's voice resonated in the forest a few metres away.

"
Disgusting creature!
" Quinn heard the old woman scream. "Who do you think you are to disgrace your lineage and waste the few royal genes present in your blood." Quinn looked around to find Amalia standing in front of Scout, who was lying who was lying naked on a grassy mound with another young woman barely in her teens. Scout jumped to her feet, grabbed her leather tunic that lay on the floor and held it over her breasts. Amalia pulled the girl's purple and white hair and screamed to her face.

"You shame us all with your deviant lust." Amalia punched Scout's jaw so hard that she fell to the ground, hitting her head on the hard rocky ground to the side of the mound. Scout's young companion picked up her clothes and ran away in the direction of the village.

"Your body does not belong to you," said the old woman, unsheathing her sword and pointing it to Scout's womb. Blood stained Scout's white hair as she moved back, away from Amalia's sword. She stood up, attempting to cover her body with her hands.

"Please, my Queen. We weren't harming anyone, we—" Amalia kicked the girl in the face. As Scout hit the ground once again, and the old woman planted her sword in between Scout's thighs leaving an open wound on the inside of the girl's left inner leg. Quinn's heart pounded as she tried to stay still and unnoticed.

"The only reason you will leave this forest alive today is to bear children of royal descent. Do you understand girl?"

"Men are scum; I want nothing to do with them," Scout spat her words.

"Yes, yes they are. Still, you will hunt the highest ranking man you can find and take his seed. That is all the interaction you need to have with them. You will do it this year or next time I will not be so forgiving." Amalia pushed the blade of her sword between the girl's legs. "Use your lust to our advantage." The old woman walked away.

Quinn attempted to leave quietly, sneaking away towards the village. She kept her body flat behind the shrubs that stood between her and Scout.
 

A dagger zoomed past Quinn's ear and stabbed the trunk of the tree that stood in front of the girl. Quinn turned to face Scout who grabbed her, choked her and pushed her body against the tree.

"If you share a word of what you saw today, I'll cut off both of your ears and feed them to the pigs." Scout pulled her dagger from the Kapok tree, nicked the top of Quinn's ear and disappeared into the forest.

Children of the Moon

Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

James appeared with their change of clothes. "The offices on the top floor are available for you to change in. The party will start upstairs in the roof garden in half an hour, and the canapés will be served at seven in the Sackler Wing, where the Egyptian Temple of Dendur is located."

"Thank you, James," Gabriel said as James gave them the bags and took the basket away.

She came out wearing a figure-hugging royal blue dress and a pair of high-heeled shoes. It was the best dress she had ever worn. It perfectly suited the curves of her body, and it worked very well with her pale skin. She wore her hair down and held a small silver purse.

"You look stunning," Gabriel said softly. She was looking at the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was wearing a steel blue fitted suit that shimmered a bit and a pale blue shirt. His eyes were on her, showcasing genuine admiration and kindness. She cringed with embarrassment, fighting the feelings of physical unworthiness that sparked every time her eyes set upon him.
 

"Thank you, I love your suit," she replied casually as she walked towards him. He offered her his left arm and placed his right hand over hers. As they walked to the roof garden, they enjoyed fairy lights that were positioned on the stairs and the light sculptures that illuminated the way. She suddenly realised this was a very special party. The women were all dressed in the most amazing gowns, and she recognised many famous faces, including movie actors and politicians.

"I wish I had known how fancy this party was. I would have made more of an effort," she said, a little intimidated as she thought of her pale, makeup-free complexion and absence of jewellery.

"You are absolutely beautiful, Morgan," he spoke in an encouraging tone. He stopped for a second, observing her discomfort. "Will you mind if I leave you for just a few minutes?" She was puzzled but nodded. He took a glass of champagne from a waiter's tray, handed it to her and said, "I'll be right back." He headed in the direction of the two security guards that had been following them all day, exchanged a few words with them, and then Gabriel disappeared amongst the crowd.