Chiara strode from her office at the Ministry of Finance to the Capital Building for her meeting with the Minister of the Province. No one could ever accuse Chiara of being a cheerful person, but today she was more sour than usual. She had completed the review of the province's revenues for the year, and then she had repeated her review, twice.
Taxes were due and there was a shortfall: a significant one. The fact that there was a shortfall was not surprising: the province of Rivel ran along the seacoast, and its economy was tied to what the ocean provided. The year had not been good. There had been several "harvest failures", which was the euphemism in the official reports. Again, a harvest failure from one species was not unusual in any year, nor was it surprising when there was more than one. Somehow, another "crop" was always better than it had been in the past, and it made up for the shortfall. This year, however, neither she nor the Minister of Science nor anyone else could explain why EVERY harvest had been well below expectations. She and Lord Davide would have to plan how they would tell the State Director, Regent Farell, that Rivel could not meet its obligations. They needed to decide on a strategy, or some alternative for satisfying the State's requirements, or the State would intervene.
Chiara had been Finance Minister for more than 20 years. Many felt that she, rather than Lord Davide, should have been named Province Minister, but she did not allow herself to think about that. There had never been a woman who had the highest position in the province, let alone the State. "Still, as far as men go, Davide isn't bad," she thought to herself, frequently. Davide had been appointed to his position 8 years ago and her working relationship with him was far better than it had been with his predecessor. Some would call Chiara cold. They would be right. It would have been fair to say she did not favor men, but it also would have been fair to say that she did not favor women. Chiara favored Chiara. Unlike most men, Davide seemed to understand that. Their relationship was professional, perhaps even a touch social, but not more than that. She expected that his professionalism would win out when she presented her proposal to him. Rivel had not defaulted on its obligations to the State for over 100 years. Chiara was familiar with that history, and she had asked how that could be? Whatever technological advances had come in the last 150 years; the oceans would not be tamed. Rivel relied almost completely on the sea for its livelihood. Surely there had been deficits in the past. She had researched the history of Rivel's finances and what she found surprised her. Yes, there HAD been failures, albeit none as large as the one confronting her and Davide. The penalty for default was the loss of any sovereignty Rivel had. It had never defaulted. The records of the accountants and prior finance ministers did not provide her with an answer; however, when she had paid a visit to her university mentor to see if he had any answers, he had given her the history that was NOT written down. "Chiara, you should not be all that surprised. I know you were not a student of history, however, payment of bounties, penalties, ransoms, etc., by way of men and women, has always existed."
"Not amongst us, I presumed, Professor," she had answered, to get her professor's quiet smile. "Even if you HAD studied history, Chiara, chances are you would not have learned this. There are so many connotations to the practice that are not looked upon kindly these days. However, it has happened.
"Under my nose, and that of Davide," she responded. Again, the smile. "When you speak with Lord Davide, you may find that he knows more about this than you would think he would."
"Minister Chiara for her appointment with Lord Davide," announced Davide's gate keeper and secretary. Davide turned. He had been watching the clouds form over the sea, wondering if their movement was completely random, or if there were a pattern, a plan that no one knew but the clouds.
"Please send her in. Make sure that her favorite berry tea is extremely hot, and extremely bitter." "So it will be, Lord Davide." He left. Davide always smiled when, before a meeting with Chiara, he requested "extremely bitter" tea for his Minister. If Chiara had a weak spot, it was her enjoyment of the tea made from wild berries. There were rumors that the red pigment of the berries had dyed her teeth pink so often that she had a professional dental hygienist on staff who cleaned away the color every week. Her own assistant had once joked that perhaps she shouldn't remove the color "so that it appears that you've just had a blood meal." The assistant recalled Chiara stopping, looking away and saying, "that may very well be the smartest idea I've heard since I became Finance Minister."
She greeted Davide with a quick bow, and then sat at the worktable. She took a sip of the beverage. "To your liking, Chiara?" Davide asked. She grinned: "your cook began steeping these as soon as she learned I would be visiting, did she not, Davide? I believe she is the only person who prepares the tea to my liking." She sighed. "And it seems that we are up for bitter times, my friend. Have you had a chance to review my report?"
Davide sighed himself. "I did. Are things truly this bleak." Chiara looked at him severely. "Have I ever sugar-coated anything to you, Davide? And more so, have I ever exaggerated the severity of a situation?"
"No, Chiara, you haven't. None of my predecessors has ever said that you were anything but direct, and honest. And as such, I see the seriousness of our position." He paused. "The lifestyle of the state is far from our own. How do we keep their administration from dismissing all of us, and taking control?" Chiara let Davide think he was controlling the meeting by saying nothing for a moment. It was good that Davide did not play the ancient game -- what did they call it -- poker? She had studied it and had learned that her Minister had a "tell": his left lip curled up just a bit when he felt he was the smartest person in the room, or that he knew more than anyone else. She had seen that curl often. This time, it was justified.
"How to address it is out of my control, Davide. I believe you know that. Even the best finance Minister cannot make a deficit become a surplus." Now it was her turn to pause. Then she continued. "My strengths are in finance and numbers, Davide, but I am not without resources elsewhere. History is what it is, and I could not accept that this situation has not happened before." She saw the curl turning into a smile. Davide DID know something. "I visited Professor Haven." Davide's smile grew larger. He had studied with Professor Haven himself. "He told me that this HAD happened, and alternative solutions had been used. He suggested you might know more about them than I do." When she finished, Davide's smile was even greater. He had no doubt that Chiara was much smarter than he was, so when He had the upper hand, he tended to gloat.
"When you and other financial experts speak of "human resources", Chiara, you use the phrase in a particular way. I am about to use it in another way." Chiara felt she was being mocked. "I am all ears, Davide. Hot bitter tea and a lesson in the history of our province. How could my day get better?" Even the dim would have tasted the sarcasm in Chiara's words. Davide ignored it. "The Court for the State engages in, well, let us say, certain vices' that our province does not, Chiara." At that, Chiara laughed and sat back in her chair, almost spilling her tea. "I believe what you mean, Davide, is that the Court is much more open about those vices than we are. And in any event, my friend, we will have to have a talk some day about your terms. For example, if you speak of what I think you speak, if you and the chamber of laws would make those vices' legal, we could tax them, and this unfortunate situation might have been avoided. But educate me, Davide. What does history teach us?"
Davide stood up, clasping his hands behind his back. He turned to the window and looked at the coast of Rivel. He dared not meet Chiara's gaze with what he was about to suggest.
"Indeed, Professor Haven is correct. While it has been centuries since this has happened, Chiara, when it did, the shortfall in payment was addressed by...human capital." Davide continued to stare out the window as Chiara began digesting what he was suggesting. "Human capital." Again, she knew the term.
"Are you suggesting, Davide, that..."
"I am suggesting that there are times when a citizen of Rivel must be willing to sacrifice something for the good of his or her fellow citizens."
"And you are speaking of sacrificing freedom? Becoming property to the Court?" Davide didn't answer, he simply proceeded.
"An offer of companionship should be extended to the State Court. We will need to learn how many members of the court are desirous of such, and their specifications. Perhaps citizens of Rivel will agree to become Court members."
"Volunteer?" Chiara looked at Davide. "Perhaps a poorly chosen word, Chiara. I will choose an envoy to visit the court of Regent Farrel. Word has come back to me that Farrel himself is seeking companionship."
Davide's vassal returned a week later. Regent Farrel had extended him the highest courtesies, he reported to his Lord and to Minister Chiara. Indeed, "a taste of the exotic would be pleasing," he had told the vassal before accepting the terms. "Of course, my Court members and I will accept, or reject the proffer when it is extended. I will speak to my Ministers this evening and secure their preferences." The vassal had returned with the preferences of nine Ministers -- and Regent Farrel himself. Farrel had signed and sealed the list of preferences with the statement, in his own handwriting "Ten companions is far more than adequate to extinguish the tax debt completely, and to leave a surplus. Should ten be accepted, this will result in a surplus to Rivel; however, key to the satisfaction is MY satisfaction. If I do not select a suitable companion, there will be no settlement whatsoever." Chiara and Davide reviewed the listing, and focused particularly on Farrel's requirements: male, older rather than younger. Muscled but not an athlete. Hairy, quick of mind, lighter colored eyes, and a complexion between ruddy and golden."
"Blond ginger, is what they used to say" Davide sighed. Yes, such lived in Rivel, but they were among the most desired of all types, both male and female. "I will discuss this with the Ministers of the Interior and Security, Davide. We must begin the search. And it must be done quickly."
When Chiara "cracked her whip" as they say, things did move quickly. She sensed, correctly, that even if they failed to secure companions for any of the Court Ministers, if they succeeded with Farrel, the debt would be satisfied.
Kyle, like most of the men of Rivel, made his living at sea craft. He was a fisherman: 36 years old, much respected, and much loved by those who knew him. He had a big, booming voice that carried over a long distance, stood at just more than 2 meters, with eyes that would be green at one moment, and brown at the next. Most important, however, was the color of his hair. He would laugh that he was "a carrot top before the fishing season begins, and a patch of straw during season." He was on his boat so often that the sun would bleach his hair to a much lighter color.
Surveillance had returned with photos of ten different men whom they thought met the specifications given to them by Davide and Chiara. Now, the two splayed the photos out in front of them. Several were eliminated immediately. Then they each voted, privately, for their top 3. There was no question: Kyle was the favorite of the two of them.
"Now, of course, we have to persuade him, Davide," Chiara spoke, and Davide laughed. "Persuasion is much overrated, Chiara. Our police force will do just fine."
Kyle was sitting on the dock adjacent to where his boat was secured. It had been another bad day of fishing, and he had released what little he had caught. "Too much work for too little profit," he had muttered before he dumped the fish back. "You're welcome, guys", he called out as the fish swam away. The day was warm, and it was sunny. He had finished early when nothing was happening, so he changed out of his "work clothes" into a t-shirt, a dark blue overshirt that he left opened, and a pair of faded, comfortable jeans. He had the daily paper with him, and if he put on his sunglasses, he could sit there, reading. The sun felt good on his arms, and his head. He laughed "helping the blond highlights come out," before he looked back at the editorials about the coming financial crisis. "Fisherman Kyle?" Kyle looked up. He saw three uniformed officers standing around him. "That's me, officer. Have I done something wrong?" He didn't get an answer. "The Ministry would like you to come along with us. Can we help you stand up?" "The MINISTRY? For what?" "Please, Sir. All we know is that we've been asked to bring you back to the Ministry." "NO! Not unless I know why. I DO have some rights even if I'm just a drone on the state' as this damn paper says." "Sir, here's our writ. The Ministry can suspend rights in the interest of the State, and they've done so. Now, please." Kyle read the paper. Yes, it specifically called him out and indicated that his rights as a citizen had been "temporarily suspended." "This...This can't be right officers. I have no idea what..." "Fisherman Kyle, none of us want to use the tazers we have. Please do not make this difficult." The one who seemed to be the commanding officer stared at Kyle through his own shades. Kyle shook his head. "Guess I'm outnumbered. Ok." He got up after tossing his paper. An officer walked on each side of him, and the third one walked behind. "Do you guys have ANY idea what this is about?" "We don't have ideas, Kyle. We just have orders." Kyle had to laugh at that. They approached a rather large looking van. "Gessel, open the doors. Make sure the others don't try to escape." "The OTHERS?" Kyle asked. "What the..." Six faces turned and looked at him before the commanding officer asked him to climb into the van and find a seat. Kyle was beginning to get scared, so he did what he was told. When he got in and found a seat, he introduced himself, and everyone introduced himself to Kyle. "Do any of you know what this is about? Where are they taking us?" There were blank faces all around. "No idea, Kyle" One man answered him. "I had just finished teaching a class at my school, and when I stepped outside, well, I guess your experience was the same." There really didn't seem to be much in common among them. Yes, Grant was a teacher, but there was also a physician, a couple of younger students, and one man who said he was an escort. Kyle had some idea of what that was, but wasn't sure. "Good looking guys, though," he thought to himself. They drove for about a half hour. Geographically, Rivel was long and narrow, and they were traveling at a time when traffic wasn't heavy. When the van stopped, someone in the uniform Kyle associated with the Ministry opened the door, rather than the officers. He didn't see any weapon on the man. "Welcome, citizens of Rivel. You will follow me, please. And no disruptions. If you look about you, you may see the marksmen. The weapons they carry are not deadly, but they ARE disruptive. If you've never taken a shot from a long range tazer let me assure you, it's not something you want to experience." They walked for about fifteen minutes, and then the official opened another set of doors. There, they were met by a large woman, not smiling, with folded arms. "Magda will bring you to your waiting areas." "COME WITH ME YOU TWO," she said to the students, who looked pleadingly at the other men until she bellowed "I HAVE GIVEN YOU AN ORDER. THIS WAY." "You must be Kyle. You look like your photo," she smiled. "This way, please. "She led Kyle to a large room where there were two other men, who both had reddish blond hair and light-colored eyes. Again, introductions were made all around. They were Gary and Justin. Gary taught music and Justin was a line chef. None of them had any idea of what was going on. Then, they heard a whirling sound from a screen in the corner of the room. A telecast of Lord Davide began. "Welcome, citizens of Rivel. You will recognize me as Lord Davide. I must apologize for the manner in which we brought you here, however, as I explain the situation, I am sure you will understand our methods, even if you do not agree with them. There are no secrets about the precarious financial situation our province is in. Rivel, like each of you, must pay its taxes, but unlike you, the penalty for Rivel for not paying taxes is not a fine or a prison term. It is a takeover by the State. We have been in negotiations with the Central Government and have come to a compromise." He reached for a glass of water, took a sip, and continued. "Rivel is arguably the most conservative of the provinces in the State, so most of you will not be familiar with the specifics of what is best called human bondage.' "He paused and Gary muttered "What the..." Regent Farrel has agreed to consider rebating Rivel's tax duty in return for the Court having an opportunity for `companionship' from Rivel. "He smiled weakly. "The men and women of Rivel are unarguably the comeliest in the State, and the Court knows that. And some of the members of Court have expressed interest in a companion from Rivel." He paused, and then continued. "We are bringing 30 of you to the chambers of Court. The State Ministers have indicated preferences, and we have selected three citizens as options for their companionship. You have been divided, based on those preferences. Only one of you will be chosen. The others will be returned; however, the four women and six men who may be chosen will know that they are responsible for maintaining the livelihood of their fellow citizens. " "He's talking about... WHAT? "Kyle asked. "Your duties will vary, based on the wishes of the Minister who selects you." Again, he paused. "However, it should be assumed that a certain amount of sexual activity will be involved in each case. "WHAT????" It wasn't just Kyle's group, but other groups as well, that began yelling at the top of their lungs. Kyle could hear pounding at the doors of the rooms where they were held. Lord Davide moved aside, and the Minister of Discipline for the province came on the screen. "We will expect appropriate behavior as we prepare you for your journey. I will remind you that every security officer is equipped with a full strength tazer, and every one of the pods in which you are being held, is equipped with means to introduce a sleeping gas if necessary." He smiled. "Two of you are, in fact, members of security details in Rivel. You will understand why your weapons have been confiscated. They will be returned if you are not selected; however, I expect my personnel to excel at everything, including saving Rivel non-violently. Now I ask you to wait patiently while the groomers pass from one pod to another, in order to prepare you for your journey. "As he spoke, Kyle and the others heard a "whoosh" and an unseen door opened very quickly, and a table of light food and drink slid into the room. "Refresh yourselves. My officers will try to make your journey tomorrow as uneventful as possible." Then the screen went dark. "We're going to be... sex slaves?" Justin asked. "One of us is," Kyle answered. Gary was silent. He was trying to deal with the erection he was having, and he hoped that his pants were not so tight that Kyle and Justin could see it.