Tales of Drysdale House (7) The Subaru

 

My apologies that is is a day late. Life and the Holidays intervened.

Narrative of Patrick Masters

Apparently, I now own a Suburban. A month ago, I owned my trusty Subaru and a motorcycle. Then for a short time I owned a fine German sedan, but it got shot up. Now I own a Suburban with tinted windows and a luxury package.

I found out this interesting fact shortly after the plane carrying Anders and myself from Pittsburgh lqnded in San Francisco. Leigh and Scarlet, the two business class flight attendants, thanked us for flying with them at the door.  At the top of the jetway, two airline officials met us and led us away from the throngs headed in the milling crowds that make up the arrivals area of a modern airport.

“Please come with us gentlemen, we can escort you to your waiting vehicle”

An electric vehicle whisked us through back corridors and down ramps to a private door. Outside stood a sleek, black, polished suburban. Gerry Reiss, my friend, was standing by the vehicle and loaded our carryon bags into the back. Anders and I sat in the back, Gerry got in the front beside the driver, Smith, one of the men from the Lazy F who had come to San Francisco to watch over Drysdale House while I was away, was driving. We took off at a good speed. I have never been able to extract myself from an airport as quickly. Just as we were waiting at a Stop sign by access ramp to the freeway, I saw figures entering a helicopter which was preparing to depart. I saw Vansittart, VanRijn’s lawyer, another man and a young woman getting into the helicopter. Just then, we sped off, and I did not see who the woman was, or if she might be Hannah Quigley.

“When did you buy this?” I asked Gerry.

“I didn’t. You did. It is for the consulate. The tinted windows means no one can look in, it is expected of a consulate, and we have another one on order.”

“Another one? Whatever for?”

“With two, no one can be sure if you are in this one or the other. With two, pursuers or watchers can be misled and confused.”

Smith, the Lazy F foreman, joined in.

“Large, powerful, looks official, tinted windows. Good for parking in loading zones, and besides, very useful in acquisitions.”

I nodded and sat back in my seat. I had forgotten acquisitions. I owed the Grand Duchy of Lutha three female acquisitions, and the Fricks would be expecting some collared women to make up the flights to Gor. There were prices to be paid for my determination to own Juli, fully, completely, and above all, legally. I am a lawyer who believes in doing things legally. Which is why I am conflicted about by agreement to help kill VanRijn, despite the fact of his attack on me.

As we pulled up in front of Drysdale House, Smith activated the gates and we sailed in under the Porte Cochere, the covered porch in front of the side entrance. Gerry, Anders, and I walked in as Veronika, in a cotton shift, cut a little lower on the thigh than usual, came out in bare feet to collect the luggage. Smith drove the Suburban to the converted stable to park.

Mrs Magruder met us just inside the door.

“Dinner will be in forty minutes, sir. It is good to see you home. Mr Anderson, I will show you to your room.”

Gerry and I walked the corridor between the large reception room and the larger of the dining rooms to the central foyer, turned left at the staircases and entered my Library. Juli was just finishing her cleaning in my cherished sanctum.

“Master!”

She knelt, and greatly daring, wrapped her arms around my ankles, kissing my shoes. After a few seconds I nudged her away with my foot. She rose and ran to get my comfortable house shoes. As I sat at my desk, she changed my footwear, then rocked back on her heels. The position of a woman in the position of a Gorean pleasure slave is one that never fails to please a man. I took in her beauty and curves, so happy and proud to own such a creature.

“Run along, now, kajira Juli. Help Mrs Magruder prepare for dinner.”

As Juli left the room, Gerry cleared his throat.

“I have something to tell you.”

“Not another, a third Suburban?”

“No, not at all. Myrna and I are staying here, pending some resolution to this VanRijn business. I was helping with Drysdale House, and could not leave her unguarded.”

“No, of course not. What does she think of the naked slave girls running around?” I grinned.

“They are in the cotton shifts when she is about. Scipio Metellus has spun her some yarn about them being indentured servants under Luthan law. He is a great teller of tales.”

“I will have to meet this Scipio. Woodrow has told me that they are great friends, and that he has been exiled from Gor over some infraction of the Initiate's laws.”

Gerry shook his head at that.

“I have heard the broad outlines. Skip gets vague on that. Uses lots of words, that say little. It seems the whole situation has left him shaken.”

Eight of us sat down for dinner. The two ladies, Myrna Reiss and Mrs Magruder at one end, then the six men, Gerry and I from San Francisco, Smith and Hawkins from the Lazy F ranch, and the two Goreans, Anders the Assassin, and Scipio Metellus, slaver of Ko-ro-ba. Scipio had introduced himself to Myrna as Skip Talus, from Lutha. The meal was excellent. Mrs Magruder would not have allowed anything less. The silver was polished, and the candles cast a lovely soft light in the small dining room. The large room was too big for just eight.

Myrna complimented ‘Skip’ on the institution of indentured females.

“It seems an excellent solution to the problem of females who just cannot met the standards of dress and decorum required of women as our New Feminism changes the norms of society. I thought the idea shocking at first, of course. But now, seeing at how docile and useful Juli and Veronika are, I can see it gaining in popular support.”

Scipio “Skip’ Metellus, nodded gravely as he accepted the compliment. One would have thought he had invented female slavery all on his own. Myrna turned to me.

“You too, Patrick, are to be congratulated at finding such a clever solution to ‘the Juli problem’. When you told me earlier in the summer, that you contemplated making a change in Juli’s legal status, I was afraid that you meant to marry her. This is a much better solution for girls such as she. Do you have any idea how much longer we shall have to shelter here. I love Drysdale House, of course, it is truly divine what you have done with the place, but I have such important work to do spreading the news of the New Feminism, that I hate to sit here at my ease when there is so much to do.”

This was my cue. I had no intention of announcing that I was off in the morning with Anders to kill VanRijn. The fewer people who knew of that the better.

“I do not want to bring danger to my friends, or my house. Tomorrow, Gerry will start to spread word that I am going camping with a distinguished visitor from Lutha.”

I nodded at Anders.

“Once we are gone, it should be safer for the rest of you, although I recommend Myrna, that you confine yourself to Drysdale House for the next week or so. Maybe you could have your meetings here, have the ladies in your group join you here.”

Myrna clearly relished the idea of using Drysdale House as a backdrop to increase her standing. First, she would make the ladies in the group come to her. Second she could advance the idea of ‘indentured females’, shocking as it first might be, to the New Feminists, using the house slaves as examples. Ladies in such organizations can be so competitive, and by handing Myrna an advantage I would make her very happy, which would make Gerry happy. The contentment of one’s key followers is a major part of leadership.

Near the end of the meal, Mrs Magruder said to Myrna.

“I think it is time for we ladies to withdraw to my sitting room in the Free Ladies wing for our coffee now, Mrs Reiss.”

For a moment Myrna looked rebellious at being taken away from the talk of the men, but Mrs Magruder continued in a very sweet voice.

It is another one of those old customs which is returning, a good one, I believe. Let the men solve the problems of the world, which are their concern, while we discuss your work with the New Feminists.”

It was that which decided Myrna. She never liked to miss a chance to lecture on her cause, especially as Mrs Magruder seemed to be such a receptive audience. And with ‘indentured females’ and withdrawing after dinner, she would dominate both the San Francisco and California New Feminists.

With ladies gone, Juli and Veronika shed their cotton tunics and served us brandy and coffee. I did not offer cigars, as the smoke interferes with the enjoyment of the fine brandy. Leave the cigars to social climbing young dandies who do not fully enjoy the finer things in life!

I outlined further the part of the plan I thought the group should know.

“Early tomorrow morning, Anders and I will take the tunnels from Drysdale House down to the Hathaway Building, where my offices are. We shall order a cab to go to my old apartment. I still have the lease for that. The Subaru is garaged there, and my camping gear is in storage there. Anders and I will head north, while Gerry announces in the office that I will be camping in an eastern area, around Virginia City on the Nevada border.”

Gerry nodded.

“I will take the Suburban to a rental place, later in the morning. I will book a small SUV for a camping trip. Maybe we can send a couple of deserving young legal associates on a camping trip as a well-earned bonus.”

“Excellent idea”

Our talk turned to other things. Scipio ‘Skip Talus’ Metellus told a couple of engaging stories about tricking foolish free women into enslaving themselves. As he spoke I wondered if ‘Skip’ would want to take up residence at Drysdale House and aid in acquisitions. I would raise that with him when I returned; if I returned. Hawkins announced it was time to check the doors and security of the house (hired guards patrolled the grounds.) Hawkins took off for the East Wing, while Gerry Reiss departed for the West. Just before Smith left to check the walkouts on the lower level where the hill sloped down to the Hathaway Building, he spoke. There was only Anders and me in the room with him.

“You are telling people that you are camping on the Nevada border, but are actually camping on the California Oregon border. I seem to remember hearing that VanRijn has a place in the woods on the Oregon border.”

With that comment he left. Anders and I left for the Library, to plot out our route on an old-fashioned paper map. GPS is not to be relied on in the woods, reception can be spotty, and when there is reception, your position can be plotted by other people. I would take a burner phone with me to use until we were in the area of Dragonwyck II, VanRijn’s place, then shut it down and remove the battery.

Anders and I were agreeing on the route, when Juli, spoke.

“May a girl be heard, Master?”

“Yes, Juli. What is it?”

“It seems to me Master that you need another person. Someone who can carry a good sized load and remain with the kayaks while you and Master Anders are, uh, doing what needs to be done.

And please let me finish, Master. When you pick up the kayaks and the crossbow for Master Anders, it might be useful to have a girl along as a distraction. A girl who some might consider pretty might distract from why two men are getting only one crossbow. And one last thing, Master, I, although just a slave, am very good at kayaking, while I think Master Anders has little experience in such a craft. I could be a help, Master. Please consider a girl’s idea.”

I looked at Anders. I thought Juli might be of use, but he was the experienced man at these sorts of matters. I would defer to him. After a moment’s thought, he nodded.

“A pretty kajira is often useful as a distraction, as is one that can carry burdens. But perhaps she is too precious to you.”

“It is a risk,” I agreed. “Yet one I think worth taking. Go Juli and prepare for our journey north.”

“Yes master, thank you master.  Thank you, Master Anders.”

It is wonderful to have such a devoted girl.

As Juli scooted out, skipping a little dance of delight, there was a knock at the door. Scipio Metellus was there.

“A messenger brought this package from Oudroe Frick in Pittsburgh.”

“Please bring it in.”

Inside there were two wooden boxes made of inlaid woods. The sort of boxes used for presentations.

One was addressed to me. When I opened the box, there was an tomahawk, a wood axe used by native Americans for travelling in the woods, and for war. The head was of hand worked steel, very sharp and deadly. Inside was a note from Zach Frick.

“When you met my parents in Pittsburgh during the trial, they were very taken with you. You may remember that they are bladesmiths, artisans working in steel. They have made this tomahawk as a special gift for you, as a token of their admiration. – Zack Frick.”

I took the axe in my hand. The balance was perfect, the blade was exceedingly sharp, and the feel of the handle in my hand was excellent. I was overcome with gratitude for this marvelous gift.

Anders had opened his box. It was from Wyandotte Frick. It contained a black dagger with a simple small crosspiece. The hilt, crosspiece and blade were all black. There was no note.

When he saw the dagger, Scipio Metellus addressed Anders. I did not understand their words, I assume they spoke Gorean. After a few exchanges, Anders addressed Scipio in his accented English.

“No, Scipio, you may not accompany us. This is my business, caste business. I do not tell you how to catch slaves. Please do not interfere.”

Scipio nodded, turned and left. He seemed very dejected.

Anders turned to me.

“Scipio Metellus is my friend. A friend of long standing. This exile business has greatly upset him. It is the first setback he has suffered in very many years. In that time, he has always tried for bigger and bigger coups, bigger and more dangerous exploits. I think he became dissatisfied with his life, he was seeking more purpose. Then all he had was taken away. This exile will be very hard on him which is why I insisted on coming with him. He does not know what he will do with his life.”

Without any more discussion we returned to our planning. It is hard to talk of such things as the decline of a friend. I resolved that I would involve Scipio as much as possible in the acquisitions for Drysdale House. Acquisitions on earth might prove the challenge he needed.

The next day, the three of us, Anders and I with the kajira Juli headed north out of San Francisco in my reliable and anonymous Subaru. I had placed a locking anklet on Juli’s left ankle and then removed her collar. The collar would draw too much attention; the anklet locked on her would remind her that she was always a slave. There would be no manumission for her.

We had left the city early, leaving before the traffic became too heavy. Northern California is full of natural beauty. The sun lacks the harshness of the drier south, the air if full of the smell of growing things. If not for the trails of the aircraft in the sky, and the noise of the highways, one could almost think that one was living in a more primitive and innocent time. At noon we picnicked in a roadside park set aside for travellers, then continued North until we found a campground where we could pay cash and avoid cameras. In the morning, we would pick up the kayaks, one single for Juli, and a double for Anders and me, a crossbow for Anders, and some extra supplies of food. When I had ordered ahead, Anders had also asked me to order extra rope.

“An expedition like this can never have too much rope.”

To my surprise he had not wanted any special knives or fighting equipment, “they only draw attention, and a skilled man can do without them.”

We had just set up our tents, when I heard a voice behind me.

“Mr Masters, it is Mr Masters isn’t it?”

I turned around; it took a moment to recognize her because she was wearing jeans and a white man’s shirt instead of her airline uniform. It was Anders who spoke first.

“Miss Leigh, what a pleasant surprise. Whatever are you doing here? I met Mr Masters yesterday when we left your airplane and we have gone camping. Are you camping as well?”

No one would have ever guessed from his manner that seeing someone who might recognize us was the last thing we wanted.

I greeted Leigh as well, and introduced her to Juli, who I called, my girl Juli. Leigh was graciousness itself and soon we all fell into conversation. Anders brought the conversation around to picking up the kayaks in the morning.

“Juli has decided she wants to do it by herself, without our help, but maybe you could help her?”

Leigh agreed immediately. It was impressive the way Anders had manipulated the situation from potential disaster to an advantage of keeping both of us out of town. Leigh, it turned out, loved star-gazing, and had taken a few of her days off to come out to what she called ‘dark sky country’ to observe the constellations.

“My dad is an astronomer. He taught me how the stars move through the seasons. I take time when I can. Scarlet and I have received our transfers to a far-eastern run next month. San Francisco, Hawaii, Hong Kong, Thailand and back. We are very excited.”

I congratulated her on her promotion to International travel, and ascertained that she would be travelling the same road as we were for much of the next day, until we went on the rivers and she stayed in a very dark area to watch the stars.

After Leigh and Juli left us to collect some water, Anders turned to me.

“Miss Leigh has all the instincts of a proper Free Lady. She is very proper in deferring to men and her attire is conservative. Well conservative for Earth anyway. I would be very sad should someone decide to acquire her. Let us not mention her to Scipio Metellus. He tells me that my reverence for a proper Free Woman is foolish. To him, all women are potential collar meat.”

I nodded and assured Anders that I would not put Leigh on any acquisition list. Privately, I agreed more with Scipio than Anders on the potentialities of Free Women, all Free Women for the collar.

Thanks to Arizona Wanderer for the suggestion that Patrick needed a Suburban, to Paladin for the picture of Juli in the Library, and to Emma of Gor for the New Feminists.