Chapter 14
The God Liam and the Goddess Miranda
"You summoned me, God Liam?" said High Tollah Myanmush, the Mouth of Sparticus.
"Indeed I did," said Liam. He felt very comfortable sitting on his throne in the Palace of Sparticus. Miranda sat at his side.
"The Goddess and I have been doing some investigating, and we have discovered some disturbing things."
"Disturbing?"
Liam exchanged glances with Miranda. "I don't know quite how to say this, but evidently girls are having painful worms put into their most intimate places when they reach a certain age."
"They are not painful, God Liam," Myanmush assured him. "They merely offer mild discomfort when touched."
"Perhaps you might care to try a few of these worms on yourself to demonstrate," said Liam.
"I, God? The bore worms were not made for men," said the Mouth of Sparticus.
"Somehow I felt that might be your answer, Mushy," said Liam.
Myanmush blinked at the alteration of his proper name.
"Fortunately, I have another solution," said Liam. He snapped his fingers.
A guard came forward, and handed the Mouth of Sparticus a box full of pebbles. "Pebbles, Lord?"
"Not merely pebbles, Mushy," said Liam. "Holy pebbles. Couldn't you tell?"
"Why, of course, Lord," said Myanmush. "What... what is their function?"
"I'm glad you asked," said Liam. "They confirm a woman's virtue. A girl who carries around one of those will always be monitored by the Gods. If she strays onto the path of temptation, the rock will turn green."
"Green?"
"Is there an echo in this room?" Liam paused. There was none. "All girls need to do is to carry this pebble around everywhere with them. They can be asked to present it for inspection at any time. As long as the pebble hasn't turned green, you can be sure of their virtue."
"What a wonderful theological innovation, Lord!" said Myanmush.
"Yes," said Liam dryly. "Of course, now you can see why there is no longer any need to put bore worms in little girls' vaginas, can you not?"
The Mouth of Sparticus paused, but only for an instant. "Yes, Lord."
"Good. Then you will make sure the practice ceases at once, will you not?"
"Yes, Lord."
"Good, Mushy."
"Myanmush, Lord."
"What?"
"My name is Myanmush, or High Tollah."
"All right, Mushy, I got it," said Liam. "Now on to another matter. The Goddess and I have discovered another... quaint custom. You whip your women. Every morning."
"To welcome in the new day," said the Mouth of Sparticus.
"And what better way to welcome the new day than to whip your woman?" said Liam, smiling.
"The Lord understands!" Myanmush gave a broad smile.
"He clearly does," said Liam. "Although Miranda is a Goddess, I whip her daily too, just to keep in practice."
Miranda glared at him.
The Mouth of Sparticus smiled, and almost appeared to laugh.
"However, there is a problem with the whipping," said Liam.
"Lord?"
"The wrists. It wears down the wrists of the men."
"I have heard occasional complaint of this. But it is not a big problem," said the Mouth of Sparticus.
"Oh, but it is," said Liam. "We may have to go to war with unbelievers at any time. Men may have to take up swords. If their sword hands are weak, if their wrists are sprained from constant whippings, how will they fight in the name of their Lords? Poorly, I would think."
"What can be done?" Myanmush asked.
"You have misinterpreted the Book, I think," said Liam. "The Book says the Earth was created in a day, was it not?"
"Yes, Lord," said High Tollah Myanmush.
"But it must have been a really, really long day then."
"I would agree, God Liam."
"Perhaps longer than what we would consider a day now."
"I also agree, God Liam."
"So then, when the Book of Sparticus says that women must be brought in hand to welcome the new day, we don't really know what a day means, do we? It may actually refer to a period of several of our days, a hundred, a thousand, or even more."
"But-"
"So in practice, if a woman has been whipped once, the requirement has been more than satisfied for a lifetime. Don't you see?"
"Well-"
"I'm glad. Because I want you to order all whippings to stop immediately. Has your God spoken clearly to you, in a way you can understand, Mushy?"
Myanmush looked defeated. "Yes, Lord," he sighed.
"Don't look so sad. You can still beat your wife on her birthday and holidays."
"Can I really, Lord?" Myanmush asked, brightening.
Miranda looked shocked and outraged.
"No," said Liam. "That was just a joke."
Myanmush's shoulders slumped.
"Go now," said Liam. "Go now, and spread the word."
"Yes, Lord." The Mouth of Sparticus left.
"You enjoyed that," said Miranda.
"Of course I did," said Liam. He clapped his hands. A new crowd of people started to stream into the room.
"What is this?" Miranda asked.
"It's time we took a break to take care of ourselves. There are dressmakers for you, and tailors for me."
"Liam, you didn't."
"We are Gods! We should dress the part," said Liam.
"And who are all these other people?" Miranda noticed that some of the newcomers were merchants, but others seemed like... servants.
"I have decided to dismiss the wonderful staff the Mouth of Sparticus has given us and hire our own people," said Liam. "It's nothing personal, I just don't like arsenic in my breakfast cereal. By the way, I'm also going to create our own Fists of Sparticus."
"Fists?"
"Bodyguards," said Liam.
"Liam, is there something you're not telling me?" said Miranda.
"Always," said Liam.
"Do you think there's some danger to us?" Miranda asked.
"Let's just say that I trust Mushy about as far as you can throw him," said Liam. "Now go, go and get your clothes, Goddess. That is a divine command."
Miranda gave him an amused look, and went off with the dressmakers, while Liam went off with the tailors.
When they reunited, Miranda was wearing a radiant red dress, and Liam was in smartly tailored silver robes.
"Silver?" Miranda inquired.
"Like our spacesuits. To remind them of our godliness," said Liam. "You look great," he said.
"Thank you," said Miranda, unsure how to take a compliment from her former captive.
The dressmakers left. But nearly two dozen men and women remained. "And these are?"
"Let me introduce you to the nucleus of our new security force. The Fists of Sparticus. Gentlemen?"
Eight big hulking men stepped forward.
"Who do you serve?"
"The God Liam!" they said.
"They got it right the first time," said Liam proudly. He turned to Miranda. "These guys are very sharp."
"Don't they also serve me too?" said Miranda.
"Oh, of course," said Liam reassuringly. "That's always implicit."
"And what about those girls?" Miranda asked.
"Girls? Step forward please."
The women stepped forward. They were all young, and very attractive, and they had big breasts, Miranda noticed.
"Meet our new butlers, maid, cooks, announcers, waitresses, cleaners, and whatever else we can think of."
Miranda hissed, "They're all hussies with big boobies!"
"You noticed," said Liam.
"You're not going to use them as sex toys, are you?"
Liam turned to Miranda. "I'm a man, pretending to be a god. I can have any woman I want. Why would I want to fondle these... extremely... attractive girls?"
Miranda stared at him hard, trying to gauge his real intent. "Just make sure that everything they do for you is purely vertical."
Liam smiled, as a few vertical tasks immediately came to mind. "Oh, most certainly."
Miranda got a bad feeling from the moment she met Gabrielle.
She hadn't failed to notice that nearly all the servants Liam had hired were young, busty teenagers or women in their early 20's, each and every one beauty models in their own right, all with large, firm breasts. Larger than her own. Miranda felt rather self conscious about her own appearance. She had never married, which she had blamed on her own plain looks. Miranda didn't look ugly... she just looked plain.
She had dark brown hair, and brown eyes, and an oval face, and noticeable breasts, but not very large ones either. Her father had once said that she was "all right" looking, which crushed Miranda more than he could ever know. Compared to her older sister Justine, who had sparkling blue eyes, plush lips and ripe round breasts, just right for the taking, Miranda was an ugly duckling.
Miranda tried to tell herself that her own personal lack of sexual self-worth wasn't the reason she objected to the kinds of servants that Liam had hired. To her, it was obvious that Liam had hired these women for one reason, and one reason only: to fuck them. And that she would not allow.
Gabrielle was the worst of the lot, or maybe the best, depending on one's point of view. She was simply gorgeous, with stunning red hair, green eyes, high cheekbones, plush lips, and large breasts, far larger than a 18 year old girl should have. She looked like she was made specifically for sex.
Miranda went to Liam's quarters, just as Gabrielle was coming out. Gabrielle was tittering at something Liam was telling her. He was already flirting with her!
"-and I told her, sure, I'm a God, I can do three things as once," said Liam.
Gabrielle laughed. But her laughter cut off when she saw Miranda's grim expression.
"Goddess," she said, putting her head down, and quickly scurrying away.
Liam frowned. "Miranda, you're scaring the hired help. Can't you learn to smile?"
"Liam, what are your plans for that girl?"
"Plans?" said Liam. "She's my handmaiden. I plan for her to make my bed, clean my room, draw my bath-"
"And nothing else?"
"What else could there be?" Liam asked.
"You're not going to touch her, are you?"
Liam said, "My dear Miranda. I have eyes only for you." He tried to put an arm around her waist, but she shrugged it off.
"So you've hired soldiers-"
"Bodyguards. The Iron Fists of Liam. Do you like the name?"
"No," said Miranda. "And you've hired servants, for whatever purposes. And now I hear you're hiring actors."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I thought maybe we could put on a few plays," said Liam. "You know, a cultural thing."
"Do you ever plan on telling me the truth?" said Miranda.
"My dear Miranda," said Liam, putting his arm around her waist again. This time, she didn't shrug it off. He smiled as if he had just planted his flag in new territory after a long and hard battle. "You and I are two of a kind here. If I were to take anyone in my confidence, you know it would be you."
"It makes me good to feel that I'm at least a half inch higher on your totem pole than Gabrielle," said Miranda.
"Dear, jealousy doesn't look good on you," said Liam. "Now, we have a full day ahead of us, shall we begin?"
Part of the job of a God was to hear petty disputes of the townspeople of Phthiotis. Liam sat in the Throne Room and adjudicated several cases.
Meanwhile, Miranda decided to walk around Phthiotis. Phthiotis was not a big city; in fact, it was the smallest of the six cities of this "Earth". It had a small downtown area, but most of the population were on ranches and farms. Phthiotis was on the edge of a desert, and the climate here was warm. It was a good thing they had arrived during the winter.
Miranda walked around, looking at everyone and everything. She wanted to keep an eye out for any abuses. Were women being whipped? Was anyone being beheaded for heresy?
After walking for a few hours, she didn't notice any blatant human rights violations. But that didn't mean they weren't happening. Like Liam, she didn't trust High Tollah Myanmush. Her casual observations disturbed her. Women were forced to walk behind men. And while she didn't see any being beaten or whipped, she did see men slapping women more than once. She had to resist the urge to step in and interfere.
And then she noticed something interesting in the farmer's market. Men and women were being charged different prices. Women were being charged more for the same kind of fruit! What kind of warped society was this?
She went back to the Palace and discussed her findings with Liam over dinner. Evidently Liam had managed to hire a chef who was not only attractive, but could also cook a good steak too, which she grudgingly appreciated.
Liam nodded sagely as she told him about the women being forced to walk behind the men, the woman who was slapped by her husband, and the disparity in prices they had to pay at the market.
"Interesting," Liam nodded, through a mouthful of roast beast.
"Interesting?" she said. "Is that all you have to say? Aren't you going to do anything about it?"
"Do you remember what Captain Taylor warned us about?" Liam said, taking a bite of his steak. "He told us to eliminate the worst abuses, and to interfere as little as possible otherwise."
"But... women here are second class citizens!"
"Do you know why he gave us that warning?" Liam asked. "Because if we interfere too much, we could start a revolution. Things could get bloody. And the things that could get bloody are us." He paused."If the worst that is happening is that women are being slapped around, I'm happy."
"Happy?"
"Yes. Because before we came here, women were being whipped, every day. They were being raped, and having horrid worms put in their... you knows. I see this as a 1000% improvement. If you're looking for perfection, don't come to Phthiotis."
"I guess," said Miranda, chasing her salad with a fork.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're pretty when you pout?"
"Do you always flirt with every woman you talk to?"
"Just the more attractive ones," said Liam, with a sparkle in his eye.
That made Miranda angry. There was no way Liam could find her attractive. He was just toying with her. She got up and left the table.
As she calmed down, she thought about the situation, and came up with an idea. What if Liam gave a sermon asking men to treat their women better? That couldn't hurt, could it? And it might possibly help.
She was so excited that she couldn't wait, and went to talk with him about it in his quarters. There was a guard outside, one of his "Fists of Liam".
"Goddess, the God Liam gave orders he was not to be disturbed," said the guard.
"Why" Miranda asked.
And then she heard a laugh, and a titter coming from inside. A woman's titter.
She grabbed the door and flung it open. She saw Liam and Gabrielle, totally nude in bed, cuddling. She immediately saw that Gabrielle had that "freshly fucked" look on her face; she had arrived too late.
"Miranda!" said Liam. "Your turn isn't for another hour! Don't tell me, you couldn't wait any longer, could you?"
Gabrielle actually laughed, which was the worst part of it all.
"Out!" said Miranda, looking at Gabrielle, and pointing to the exit.
Gabrielle looked at Liam. Liam nodded. "You better go, dear. She's always cranky right before I put it into her."
Gabrielle cackled hysterically as she got up, cutting it to a snort when she saw Miranda glaring at her. Not only were her breasts huge, but her areolas were so red that they almost seem illuminated. With slim hips and athletic legs, she had the sexiest body Miranda had ever seen. Grabbing her clothes, Gabrielle slipped by Miranda, muttering, "Goddess," as she ducked under her arm.
Miranda slammed the door behind her so they were alone. "What in the world were you doing with that girl?"
"Do you really want a play by play analysis?" Liam grinned. He seemed totally unashamed. "You know, I really should be the one upset here. You barge into my private quarters, and interrupt me in such an intimate situation. What right do you have to come here and be so aggressive? Are you the keeper of my body?"
"No, but I am looking out for that young girl! You're abusing her, Liam!"
Liam sat up and leaned against a pillow. "This should be good. How am I abusing her?"
"You're using your power to force her to have sex with you."
"Nothing of the kind," said Liam. "She asked for it. She begged for it. Literally. You saw her. Did she look like she was being held against her will?"
"I don't care. You tricked her using a lie," said Miranda.
"It wasn't a lie to her. To her my Godhood is as real as my manhood," said Liam. "I'll tell you something that is real. Whether I'm a God or not, I'm a powerful man. And powerful men attract women. It's the oldest story since the beginning of time. I have what she wants. And being with me makes her happy. What's wrong with that?"
"Liam, she's a child!"
"She just turned 18," said Liam. "On Earth, she could be celebrating her second year of marriage."
"But she doesn't have the capacity to decide whether-"
"Oh, so it's the old feminist 'women don't have the capacity to decide who to sleep with' argument. I've heard that before, but it never impressed me. If women are supposed to be strong, if women are supposed to be the same as men, mustn't we respect their right to choose for themselves? And if we don't, isn't that saying that women are children, that they are inferior to men?"
Miranda shook her head. "You're twisting things up. All I know is you're taking advantage of your false identity in order to have sex with that poor girl."
"That 'poor girl' desperately wants it. And she's going to get it again, and again, as long as she wants it, and as long as I want it," said Liam, taking a firm tone for the first time. "I'm not your prisoner anymore, Miranda. You can't order me around. Try to get that out of your head. And now, after you so rudely interrupted me, I'd like to get some sleep. Please go now."
Miranda opened her mouth and then closed it. Somehow, Liam had turned her into the villain. She didn't know what to say. She turned and left, her mind a swirl of confusion.
She didn't have to talk to Gabrielle; it was obvious, even to her, that Gabrielle was there voluntarily. But was what Liam was doing with her morally right? She debated with herself into the night.
Liam and Miranda were sitting in the Throne Room the next day. A beaten up man stood sullenly before them, as well as High Tollah Myanmush, and some of Liam's Fists.
"I thought I said that executions were to stop immediately, Mushy," said Liam. "Did I not say that?"
"Yes, you did," said Miranda, happy to provide a united front. On this issue, she and Liam saw eye to eye.
"And yet, my guards here found this man about to be beheaded outside the farmer's market by one of your men. Can you explain that?" Liam asked.
"God Liam, you ordered executions for heresy to cease. And believe me, it has been done," said Myanmush. "But this man was not being executed for heresy. He was being executed for casting a magic spell."
"Oh, well, that's obviously different," said Liam. He leaned forward. "And what kind of magic spell did this man cast?"
"He had a quarrel with a neighbor, Lord. He cast a spell to kill one of his chickens. The chicken died immediately."
"Did it?"
"Yes. Without a scratch on it."
Liam turned to the man. "Is this true? Did you cast a spell on your neighbor's chicken?"
"No, God Liam," said the man. "I quarreled with my neighbor, I admit it, but I never cast a spell on his chicken."
"He lies. Three people saw him mutter under his breath, point at the chicken, and then it died," said Myanmush.
"I see," said Liam. He got up from his chair and walked over to the man, studying him. "As I see it, there are two possibilities here. Either this man can cast magical spells on chickens, or he can't. If he can't, he is no threat, neither to chicken or man, correct?"
"Correct, Lord," said Myanmush.
"But if he can cast spells, then he is a danger. He can probably cast all kinds of magic spells, correct?"
"Yes, God Liam," said Myanmush.
"So... what if we force him to cast a spell which robs him of his spell casting abilities?"
"Lord?"
"Well, if he can cast spells, what if he casts a spell on himself denying him the ability to cast spells?"
"I... I don't know, my Lord."
"You," said Liam, pointing to the man. "Cast a spell right now! Cast a spell which will cause you to lose all your magical abilities!"
"My Lord, I don't know how-"
Liam drew his blaster from his holster and pointed it at the man's face. "Cast it now, or you die!"
The man was frightened out of his wits. He started chanting nonsense, louder and louder, faster and faster, until Liam subtly stepped on his foot, and he stopped.
"It is done!" said Liam. "He no longer has the ability to affect chickens or men!"
"My Lord, how do we know this?" Myanmush asked.
"You are right, we must test him." Liam turned to the man. "Try to cast a spell."
"What kind of spell?" the man asked.
"Ah...." his gaze fell on Myanmush. "Cast a spell to turn Mushy here into a chicken."
"No!" said Myanmush, quaking as he put his hands over his face.
"Do it!" Liam commanded, raising his blaster again.
The man started to chant, faster and faster. Liam helpfully rotated him so he was facing the now quaking Myanmush. Then, when enough time had passed, Liam kicked him in the shin, and he stopped.
"It is done!" said Liam. "Mushy, have you turned into a chicken?"
Myanmush looked down at himself.
"You're not sure? Do you need more time to consider? Maybe if we tried plucking some of your feathers...."
"No, Lord, I am not a chicken!"
"Are you sure?" Liam asked anxiously.
"I... I think so," said Myanmush, looking down anxiously at himself.
"Therefore, this man is cured. There is no need to remove his head. He will never harm man or poultry ever again, will you?"
"No, Lord, never," said the man.
The audience cheered as Liam walked back to his Throne.
Miranda smiled at him. "That was well done, Liam," she whispered.
He smiled back at her.
"It's so wonderful here, Miranda. It's like a paradise," said Naomi.
Miranda tried to keep in touch with the others. She talked to Taylor, of course, and Tara, and Pam and sometimes McKenzie or Kyrsten (Brianna wasn't as friendly) and once even with Kristiana (though the simple girl was deathly boring). Naomi also gave her a sympathetic ear, but every time she talked to Naomi, she kept telling Miranda how great things were in Heraklion and how she simply must drop by for a visit.
"It sounds like it. But how are the Brothers treating you?" Miranda asked.
"Oh, Chaka is simply wonderful," said Naomi. "He's a darling. I love him so much!"
"That sounds intense. Are the two of you thinking of marriage?"
Naomi paused. Officially, she was Chaka's concubine. "We're progressing."
"And what of Ahmed and Khalid?"
Naomi thought about the time Ahmed had beaten her so badly that she had been black and blue all over her body. The very same Ahmed who was actually standing just five feet from her now, outside the transmission range, watching every word with a scowl on his face.
"He's wonderful. He's a little... shy at first, but once you get to know him, he's really quite... warm and friendly."
"Ahmed? Are you sure we're talking about the same guy?" Miranda asked.
"Yes, he's a pussycat," said Naomi.
Ahmed glared dangerously at Naomi.
"Not a pussycat! I mean, a rugged, masculine man! Very strong!" said Naomi.
"Naomi, are you sure everything is all right there?" said Miranda.
"Yes," she said, smiling weakly.
"You didn't tell me how Khalid is doing."
"Khalid has turned Heraklion into a paradise. He is such a wise and gentle ruler," said Naomi. She stretched out with her hands. "I wish you could come to see, Miranda. Just for a few days. You'd be amazed at the things he has accomplished here."
Miranda frowned. "I'd like to come-
"Then come!"
"But I have to keep an eye on Liam. He's too unreliable."
Naomi looked fearful. "I really wish you'd reconsider."
Something was wrong here. Something Miranda couldn't quite identify. "I'll give it some thought," she said, giving a tight smile.
Over course of the next few days, Miranda noticed some unusual construction going up, all over Phthiotis. There were statues being built, in village squares, on plazas, all over the place. And all the faces on all the statues looked... familiar.
"Liam, what's going on?" Miranda asked, a few days later, over dinner.
"Can you be more specific, Dear?" Liam said.
"I see people building statues, all over Phthiotis."
"It's nice that people have hobbies," said Liam, spooning his soup.
'The statues all look like you," said Miranda.
"Really?" Liam smiled. "Maybe it's just a coincidence."
"How many, Liam? How many statues are you having built to yourself?"
"Not many. A few here, a few there... maybe a few dozen."
"A few dozen?" said Miranda, her soup spoon clattering to the ground. "Don't you remember what Captain Taylor said, about using our positions for personal gain?"
"Every word of it, my dear," said Liam. "But this has nothing to do with personal gain." He looked around to make sure that none of the servants were in earshot. "We want people to believe we are Gods, my dear. Gods need advertising. Think of statues as old fashioned advertisements."
"You're creating a cult of personality!" said Miranda. "You're letting your Godness go to your head!"
Liam waived his hand dismissively. At that moment Gabrielle, wearing a low cut dress that showed off her large breasts, said, "My Lord, Xena the chambermaid awaits in your bedchambers, as you requested."
"Yes," said Liam, looking like he wished that Gabrielle had mentioned this at another time. "Tell her I will be there shortly to...discuss the linens." He turned to Miranda. "She's showing me swatches for a new linen set."
Gabrielle smiled and left, wiggling her hips.
Miranda stared at him furiously. "Is there any woman in the Palace you haven't yet slept with, Liam?"
"It's a large staff. I'm still working my way through them," said Liam apologetically.
"Be aware I'm watching you closely. If you go over the line, I'm going to shut you down," said Miranda, frowning as she got up from the table, and threw down her napkin.
Liam regarded her thoughtfully. Sooner or later, he would have to do something about Miranda.