Is Gender Even Real Part One and Part Two
Part One
Yet again Lindsay was dreaming. The dream was strange but as usual vivid and sharply detailed. It seemed to involve being in a bed in a small room with numerous folk dressed in blue and others in white coats looking at inexplicable things that had moving patterns on them that seemed to almost but never quite constantly repeat themselves. They also looked at objects that made strange noises at regular intervals. Lindsay was aware that there were a number of tubes and white string like things seemingly connected to the bed. However, like many of Lindsay’s dreams it was neither totally rational nor totally consistent. Lindsay’s dreams made life a living torment, for dream and reality crossed over, blended and became each other. It was impossible to determine what was a dream and what was reality. Dreaming of dreams within dreams within dreams, and dreams even deeper nested than that, dreams like images in two mirrors facing each other that reached to infinity and drew one into insanity, meant Lindsay had no idea what being awake was like, for all such experiences were probably only dreams too.
Part 2
“I want you to come home with me. I am here to arrange it all. I know about carrying the message to engage the assassin to kill Tomas, and the new dresses made by Serena your fee paid for. I know you are really a girl. I know all about your new dresses and where you keep them. I know how you get past the guards dressing as a girl, but you won’t be able to do that for much longer will you? It will not be safe for you when the guards here discover that you have been tricking them. I said I want you to come home with me, but I want you as my sister, the girl you want to be. I know you wish to be able to read and write, and I can give you that and much more too.”
Is Gender Even Real or is it Just a Fantasy in an Illusion in a Dream? Parts One and Two
Yet again Lindsay was dreaming. The dream was strange but as usual vivid and sharply detailed. It seemed to involve being in a bed in a small room with numerous folk dressed in blue and others in white coats looking at inexplicable things that had moving patterns on them that seemed to almost but never quite constantly repeat themselves. They also looked at objects that made strange noises at regular intervals. Lindsay was aware that there were a number of tubes and white string like things seemingly connected to the bed. However, like most of Lindsay’s dreams it was neither totally rational nor totally consistent. Lindsay’s dreams made life a living torment, for dream and reality crossed over, blended and became each other. It was impossible to determine what was a dream and what was reality. Dreaming of dreams within dreams within dreams, and dreams even deeper nested than that, dreams like images in two mirrors facing each other that reached to infinity and drew one into insanity, meant Lindsay had no idea what being awake was like, for all such seeming experiences were probably only dreams too.
Lindsay McCall was, as far as he was aware, ten. Small, skinny, underweight, pale green eyed and strawberry blond haired were all fair descriptions of Lindsay, so too were despised, poverty stricken, ill fed, illiterate and homeless. Lindsay had no family he was aware of, couldn’t remember his mama, had no idea where he or his name came from and was a street child of the city state of Barmallia. Upper Barmallia was the wealthy part of the city state of Barmallia and it was a backward, filthy, poverty stricken place even by the standards of the rest of Torvinkt its continent. Lower Barmallia where Lindsay just about survived was the poorer part of the port city. The only good thing that could be said of Lower Barmallia was that there were no rats to spread disease, for as soon as one was seen it was hunted down for food. An adult rat could provide a good meal for six of the area’s poorest inhabitants, any number of who kept a close eye on the docks for that was where the rats could be found. It was an ill fortuned rat that jumped ship in Barmallia.
Even the best parts of Torvinkt were at least two centuries behind the rest of the planet which was known to its inhabitants as Devaal. Most of Devaal was somewhere between just post mediaeval and the early stages of an industrial revolution. Hirgalt, the smallest continent of Devaal was millennia rather than centuries more advanced than the rest of Devaal, and in the main it restricted its interactions with the rest of Devaal as much as possible since the civic leaders, read dictators, on the rest of the planet only saw Hirgalt technology in terms of using it for warfare to conquer their neighbours. The concept of improving life for their subjects was completely alien to all of them. Social improvement to their secret opposition was seen as replacing the current dictator with themselves rather than making life better for anyone. Hirgalt comprised a number of in the main peace loving democracies with well trained militaries that were purely in existence to be seen by others to prevent their having any ideas of conquest. By contrast, a bloody coup involving the slaughter of the dictator, his sycophantic henchmen and their entire families was considered to be the normal democratic process elsewhere else on Devaal. Electoral succession in most of Devaal was hard on the nerves of the Devaalli citizens for regime change always carried a high price in collateral damage and invariably involved rivers of blood of unlucky bystanders on the streets.
Lindsay was not entirely friendless and there were a few tolerant and charitable folk who helped him survive in the quarter of the sprawling urban slum city where he eked out an existence. He was regarded as not quite right in the head which afforded considerable protection, for it was considered unlucky to hurt those afflicted by the gods. Barkiss the baker, who allowed him to sleep behind his massive masonry bread ovens also gave him the odd crust or a broken meat pie that hadn’t turned out quite right in the baking in exchange for running errands, other traders did likewise and some gave him the occasional deal, a small value, stamped square of copper that served as a medium of exchange. Deals were only worth the copper they contained and because clipping the edges was a common practice they were only worth what they weighed. All traders had an accurate balance for weighing the worth of deals. It was a harsh society, but as alluded to not completely without redeeming features.
With time Lindsay became known as one possessing a rare characteristic, integrity. He could be trusted. If given deals to deliver something, whether a message or a package, he delivered it, and he delivered it intact and quickly for the agreed price. Most of the street children would have disappeared along with the deals and the package, selling the message or package to any who would pay. Lindsay became a trusted runner, and much of what was entrusted to him was criminal and would have sent him, the sender and the recipient to the gallows, if not worse, had he been caught. The downside of that was he was well known, for such integrity made him so. To protect himself Lindsay eventually refused to carry written messages and insisted on verbal delivery. It was considered a fair stance as the nature of the messages became ever more dangerous to commit to paper. The messages were always delivered and none else ever heard of the matter, so he was entrusted with delicate matters and paid a little more, which although it enabled him to eat better unfortunately elevated his profile further.
To enhance his ability to pass by the guards with neither search nor question Lindsay used his appearance to his advantage. Despite considering himself to be completely male Lindsay looked androgynous and the guards were always easier on street girls than street boys seeing them as prostitutes in the making rather than criminals of the future. Prostitution was a profession, and being taxable it was therefore a respectable career, whereas criminality was a route to the torture chambers and the headsman’s block. As a result he dressed and behaved like a girl, but he was astute enough to behave like a decent girl by deliberately not exposing to public view anything other than his hands and face. He was thus seen as a girl from a good home, a family with standards, and was presumed to be not without protectors. Barkiss, who acted as a go between for folk who wished to send or receive messages, and as a result made extensive use of Lindsay’s services, had told him if any asked he was to say he was the adopted daughter of Barkiss the baker whose bakery was behind the Corn Exchange. He also advised that it would be wise for Lindsay never to take commissions directly when dressed as his alter ego to protect her when she was conducting business. Lindsay was a name used by men as well as women so there was no problem for him there. Being perceived as a decent girl with a respectable family, Barkiss was a widower with no children, gave him freedom to go wherever he wanted with no questions asked by the guards, however it did have a downside. The guards always took a few minutes to chat and pass the time of day with Lindsay, and he was a little unnerved by being known to them all and thus hailed by name in greeting by them whenever he passed. But even that was offset by them believing they owed her favours, since she would not accept payment for fetching them a hot drink or something warm to eat in winter or a cool one and chilled fruit in the heat of the summer when they were on stationary duty rather than roving duty.
Whilst being on good enough terms with the guards to know their names meant Lindsay was safer when delivering illegal goods it too had a major downside. There were a couple of dozen younger guards who had realised, due to her shyness and modesty, that Lindsay was much better than a whore in the making, and they had told her that when she turned fourteen they would approach Barkiss seeking her hand in marriage. A few had already done so in advance and Barkiss had had to invent a fictitious cousin who was he explained already betrothed to Lindsay. Fourteen was the legal age for marriage and sex, which if found to have been violated was punished by summary execution with neither trial nor even investigation. If someone were executed by mistake, as long as the guards responsible could shew reasonable justification for their assumptions the matter was not looked into any further. Barmalli society was harsh, but it did its best to protect children, which meant abuse of those under the age of fourteen was punishable by death on the spot, neglect was acceptable, abuse not so. However, once children reached the age of fourteen nobody cared what happened to them.
That night after settling down behind Barkiss’ ovens, Lindsay dreamt he was in a strange and huge castle in which even the interior walls were built of massive granite blocks three feet thick. The maze like building was complex with many corridors and rooms leading off them. He was completely lost even though the place was vaguely familiar, like somewhere he’d been before a long time ago as a young child. He was bewildered by the dream’s almost familiarity and had no idea why he was there, but was acutely aware that he was filthy. His clothes were dirty beyond belief, his hair was matted with dirt that seemed to be the accumulation of months if not years of filth and he was aware that he stank. An overripe smell of biological origin that disgusted him and he associated with the word defilement, though he knew not what the word meant. He knew that despite being a son of the streets he’d never been that dirty nor stank that rotten before, though strange waking nightmares of hunger, thirst, squalor and dreaming of himself and others haunted his awareness. He’d never thought of the word rotten in that context before and the thought filled him with shame as he walked along an endless corridor with locked doors on both sides neither knowing why he kept walking nor where he was hoping to arrive at. As he walked he thought of what he’d been told of other places on Devaal. Places that treated the poor better, gave them opportunities to better themselves, education, employment, hope of a better future. To Lindsay education meant literacy, nothing more, but literacy he knew was a passport to guaranteed riches, and none he knew to speak to were literate. It was all just dreams he dreamt, no more than dreams. Life was not like that. You were either born into an upper echelon criminal family able to buy off the guards, or you were one of the under classes they manipulated to enhance their wealth. Then when you were no longer of any use to them or you irritated one of them they had you killed. It was how the world worked.
However, Lindsay continued to walk down the now somehow increasingly familiar corridor for no better reason than it was there and there was nowhere else to go when he finally saw an open door on his right. Beyond the door was a light and airy bathroom with a bath full of steaming water and late afternoon or maybe early evening sunshine pouring in through the glass of its many casements. In front of him across the corridor was an open, massively heavyweight, iron bound, six inches thick, oak door that had five equally heavy calibre hinges and bolts made from huge steel bars on it. Without understanding why he decided to close the door. He strained as he pushed to start it moving, but once moving it continued without any further help from him on it’s almost frictionless hinges till one by one the five equally impressive catches latched with quiet clicking noises. He engaged the bolts by sliding the heavy steel bars into the stone wall. Surprisingly they slid easily and even more surprisingly almost noiselessly with just a gentle dull thud as they hit the wooden blocks set into the holes deep in the stone walls. Satisfied that the door was closed and locked he entered the bathroom. In his dream state, without knowing why, he undressed and tested the steaming water. It was hot, but not too hot. He sank into the water and gratefully soaked and soaped away the gray grime of who knew how long off his skin to reveal the ultra white skin that surprised him for he’d not seen it for so long that he failed to recognise it as himself. He tried to remember his early childhood before the streets, but nothing came back to him. Maybe after half an hour of soaping and sponging he felt his body was clean, but he was aware his hair needed attention.
Lindsay McColl had never really noticed and certainly not bothered about his hair before. Now it was something that disgusted Lindsay O’Luxxe. She knew she was dreaming, but believed that was no excuse for being less than herself and lowering her standards in any way, certainly not her standards of personal hygiene. There was privacy, hot water, shampoo and conditioner and more than enough warmed towels, huge floor to ceiling mirrors, everything she needed. She’d barely been aware as she’d bathed that she was female, after all she’d always been female, though it was her breasts that had drawn her attention to the fact and that had given her the awareness that she needed to wash and deal with her hair which took another half hour involving much shampoo and many rinsings before she was finally satisfied. No matter how much filth she washed out of her hair the water in the bath remained clear and clean. Eventually she realised there was an over flow to the bath and as fast as the dirty water was taken away it was replaced by hot, clean water which also explained to her why after an hour the water was no cooler than when she had first stepped into it. She was surprised to find that her long hair was virtually tangle and snarl free.
As she combed her rich and lustrous deep red hair that reached half way down her back Lindsay became aware of shouting and futile attempts to break through the door she’d bolted. She dried herself using the luxuriously soft bath towels and after donning a pair of the pink fluffy slippers and wrapping a huge bath towel around herself her she left the bathroom and walked down the corridor, closing and bolting numerous of the heavily defensive doors behind her as she went. She found a bedroom where boy’s clothes that appeared to be the ones she’d left in the bathroom were ripped to pieces and heaped in a pile on the fireplace. A closer look made her realise they weren’t ripped to pieces they were just a collection of rags though after a few seconds she decided to ask why the servants had left the dirty cleaning rags in her room, all previous recollections of the rags having gone. All the clothes she’d need for the dinner and subsequent ball that evening were ready laid out on the bed for her by her dresser and personal maid, though she was aware her mother would have selected them. That the expensive and elegant clothes would fit her perfectly was no surprise to her, for they were her clothes, and she was Lindsay O’Luxxe, fourteen, beautiful and daughter of powerful, wealthy and influential parents.
A beautiful and well dressed woman in her middle thirties entered her bedroom to nod in dismissal of the hovering lady’s maid and dresser who had been waiting to assist Lindsay. After kissing her forehead the woman asked, “What took you so long, Sweetheart? Your papa is waiting and the early guests are arriving. Let me finish dressing your hair before you do your face.” Lindsay knew the woman was Bridget her mama and Gregor her papa was the Gervalli ambassador to Menaught. Gervallia and Menaught were nation states on the continent of Hirgalt. She was already forgetting about the corridor and knew she had bathed in her en suite bathroom. She lived in the castle which was the Gervalli embassy just outside the Menaughtan capital of Menaught City, and tonight was a celebration dinner, ball and supper which marked the signing of a new set of trade and political accords between Gervallia and Menaught. The argument concerning control of the small state of Wassam that had been going on for a hundred and fifty years had finally been settled, and she had a part to play in the public acceptance of the treaty that was the political solution. Having finished with her daughter’s hair, her mama said, “Have you decided concerning make up, Lindsay?”
Lindsay nodded and turned to face her dressing table mirror. As she stared into her emerald green eyes Lindsay said, “Just a touch tonight, Mama? What do you think?”
“You don’t need more than a trace to enhance your eyes, Love, but a darker than your usual shade of lipstick perhaps? The combination will make you look more like Maximilian’s age, Yes?” Lindsay nodded and her mama continued, “Your pearls I think rather than diamonds tonight? Completely suitable for an unmarried girl and lending just the hint of informality to the evening that your papa desires.” Lindsay took the offered lipstick which was a deep red that complemented her hair. She applied it with a brush and her mama smiled in approval at the result. Lindsay nodded as her mama took the matching pearl set off Lindsay’s dressing table. She placed the delicate tiara on Lindsay’s hair easing it back to hold all in place and keep it off her face, for Lindsay was wearing her hair loose, fastened the triple string of small pearls around her neck, then the matching bracelet around her right wrist before inserting the earring posts through her ear lobes. Lindsay sprayed a mist of her extremely expensive perfume in to the air in front of her, walked through the mist and nodded to her mama who asked, “Ready now, My love? Nervous?”
“Yes, Mama. I’m ready. I’m not nervous. It’s just a dance, and Maximilian is a nice boy who looks after me and treats me with respect, not like some of the lechers I’ve had to dance with in the interests of diplomacy. He’s taking me in to dinner and I really like him, Mama. I really don’t wish to dance with nor even speak to that disgusting pervert Gervaldte. I know he’s probably the best looking young man on the continent, but how any fifteen year old can be such a pervert completely perplexes me.” Her mama smiled, for she had already had conversation with Vahalliah Maximilian’s mama concerning the couple who had known and liked each other since early childhood. If it came to pass it would be the best of all worlds, a love match that was also a diplomatic coup for both their husbands. Like Vahalliah she was not particularly interested in politics per se, though what made their husbands happy made them happy too, but she too was interested in potential grandchildren.
She didn’t say anything regards Gervaldte, but was aware her husband had already had words with him and more to the point his papa. Gervaldte’s papa was an honourable man who had to be invited, for he did not deserve the slight of not being, and that invitation automatically included his wife and adult children. He’d said, “I have daughters too, Your Excellency, and I cannot but respect any papa who does what is necessary to protect his daughters and their reputations. You must do what is right, and I will support you. Gervaldte’s mama will not like it, but she will accept it. He needs to be taught a lesson before he does something for which an angry male relative will justifyably kill him. However, if that happens at least he will cause me and my family no further embarrassment. Fortunately he is my third son, and his oldest brother who serves with the military already has three sons, so there is no possibility of Gervaldte inheriting and dissipating the family lands and fortune. My family’s lands are coastal and as far from Menaught City as one can be and still be in Menaught. My brothers, who both have daughters too, have already expressed a willingness to take him in hand and apprentice him to a fisherman or a farmer with benefit of neither rank nor privilege. Should he try his tricks on a local girl there he would not survive the experience.”
Down stairs after the last of the guests were announced, Lindsay’s papa announced, “This is a great day for both our peoples. We have nearly gone to war with each other a few times over a matter that has finally proven to be ridiculously easy to solve. As a result of our negotiations I am proud to say I and my Menaughtan counter part, Lord Peter Fendelt the Minister of foreign affairs, have come not only to respect each other, but come to be friends too. As a result of our negotiations both our armies have been ordered to stand down which I am sure will provide all of us with a sense of relief. Before we proceed any further Lord Fendelt too would like to say a few words.”
The Minister stood forward and said, “I’m sure most already know how the accord was reached, but for those few who don’t and for those who lack details the State of Wassam is now part of Gervallia as it was centuries ago. Which means responsibility for the civil administration falls to Gervallia. The mines and other industries which were initially financed mostly by Menaught are now combined into a single company jointly owned by our two nations.” He laught and said, “I’m sure the civil servants of both governments will argue concerning the tax liabilities for all of the foreseeable future, but that is the case for all commerce, and it will not be Gregor’s nor my problem, so we can live with that.” There was a ripple of laughter around the room. “The costs of all the civil administration are to be covered from the gross profits of that joint company before any taxation liability is negotiated, as are the expenses of maintaining the new Wassami military which will be created using Wassami recruited soldiery as well as some from established Gervalli and Menaughtan regiments. Initially the Wassami regiments will be commanded by officers from the Gervalli and Menaughtan military till such time as there are sufficient numbers of Wassami officers available from the officer training schools of both our nations. We see no need to have an officer training establishment based in Wassam since applicants from Wassam will be welcome too apply to both our existing establishments, though probably most will wish to apply to Gervalli rather than Menaught. All Wassami applicants to any of our more specialised training centres, both military and civilian, will be considered in the same way as all other applicants. That will end the justifyable Wassami discrimination complaints that their children have been denied opportunities purely because of where they were born.
“This accord has only been possible due to Ambassador Gregor O’Luxxe and myself consigning our negotiating teams to where they belong, their offices. He and I managed very well without them, though doubtless our shared delight in a good dinner followed by some excellent brandy has helped us in our deliberations. As he said we have become friends, which leads me to the most contentious matter of all. Whether I open the dance with his good lady Bridget, or he opens the dance with my good lady Vahalliah. This is a matter of prestige to both our peoples and two couples by convention may not open a dance. However, this agreement is too important to be allowed to founder on such a trivial matter, so we have agreed neither of us shall open the dance. This is an accord for the future that is meant to ensure the safety of future generations, so we decided to let the next generation seal the matter by opening the dance. I have a seventeen year old son and fortunately my friend has a fourteen year old daughter. Lindsay and Maximilian shall open the dance leading to no loss of prestige by either nation. This is part of the accord and is recorded so in the treaty.”
That was greeted with appreciative applause, and there were numerous folk nodding and murmurs of, “A truly diplomatic solution,” “Excellent,” and even one or two that boiled down to, “It’s good to see those highly paid government men actually earn their salaries from time to time.” The few who had not wished for a peaceful settlement said nothing.
A venerable long retired Gervalli diplomat said cynically to his companion, an equally old retired Menaughtan diplomat, “Doubtless there will be some very unhappy civil servants on both sides.”
The reply was distinctly vicious, “Not any more. I heard from one of my grandsons who’s in the diplomatic corps that some of those civil servants had vested interests in us not reaching an accord. Some had invested heavily in armament and munition industries and looked to profiteer from a war. They no longer have jobs and some are being interrogated for treason. I believe some on both sides were colluding with each other and are going to be tried for treason at a joint court by both Gervalli and Menaughtan judges sitting together. That alone is a considerable improvement in our relationship.” He laught, but his laughter had a dry cynical edge to it. “I believe that in the interests of mutual understanding there is talk of the guilty serving their sentences in the other nations’ prisons.”
The Gervalli nodded with a hard look on his face and said, “As you said, Old friend, a truly diplomatic solution. Every one is happy and no young men have to die for the principles of those who risk nothing. What has always puzzled me is the likes of you and I have managed to remain friendly for decades, and there have always been hundreds if not thousands of senior governmental employees who have managed it. Many have long been related via marriages of their offspring and shared grandchildren, so how did things manage to degenerate to having troops facing each other across the border?”
“I suspect the answer is merely pride and stupidity on the part of elected officials that those of us in the civil service, who do not have to court the electorate to remain in post, have no need to fall victim to. Another glass of this excellent Timorian brandy?”
After dinner as Lindsay opened the dance with the Maximilian, who as she knew was an excellent dance partner and conversationalist. They were more than fond of each other and moving closer every time they met, but as yet neither had acknowledged their desire for the relationship they both wanted which sometimes had led to awkward silences. Lindsay asked, “Take me in to supper too will you, Maximilian, before Gervaldte claims me? I won’t enjoy it if I have to spend most of my time keeping his hands off me without creating a scene. He’s on my dance card as my partner before supper, but I’d prefer to risk being accused of bad manners than to be groped by that disgusting animal. I know it’s usual to have different dinner and supper partners, but none whose opinion matters to me will mind. I’m sure I shall find it necessary to visit the ladies’ room during his dance.”
“Of course, Lindsay. My sisters all loath him for the same reason. His female cousins and even his sisters won’t be alone with him. My papa has tried to explain to him if he doesn’t alter the way he behaves no decent papa will ever allow any daughter of his to be anywhere near him. One of my cousins told me your papa told him earlier tonight that if he lays a hand on you without your express permission he’ll have the servants drag him out and horse whip him in front of the embassy for all to watch, with I’m told the full approval of Gervaldte’s papa. Knowing Gervaldte I doubt that will make any difference to his behaviour tonight. However even if your papa doesn’t have to carry out his promise, and I don’t doubt for a second if required he will do so, I suspect Gervaldte will soon go too far, probably tonight because he has been getting worse by the day. In that event I’m sure some girl’s brothers, and their friends too if necessary, will teach him a lesson. I’ve heard a few have decided if he even attempts to abuse one of their sisters they’ll scar that oh so good looking face of his so badly he’ll be lucky to betroth a toothless granny from Barmallia.”
“Thank you, Maximilian. You are a dear.”
As Lindsay kissed his cheek, Maximilian said, “Oh dear, Lindsay. That’s done it. Gervaldte saw that. Tell you what. Let me kiss your lips then if he bothers you I have the right to deal with him for you, and none will be surprised if you then only dance with me all evening.” Lindsay’s kiss took his breath away and he asked, “Did you mean that, Lindsay? I mean for real? Not just to keep that oaf away. I would like it very much if you did.”
“Yes of course I meant it, Maximilian. You do realise if we spend the entire evening together we may as well announce our betrothal. Mama and Papa will be delighted, but what about your parents?”
“I suspect they have already colluded with yours over the matter. Papa has to return home in a few days, but this morning he asked me to stay here for a few weeks in his place as Mama’s support for the look of things, for she’s been invited as a house guest by your mama. I think I detect the scent of intrigue there, but I don’t mind if you don’t.”
“No, not at all, but at some point we should perhaps take a stroll on the balcony for a little privacy in which to discuss the matter.” Maximilian nodded and kissed her again. Neither noticed the smiles on their parents’ faces, nor the angry scowl on Gervaldte’s face at having his entire evening spoilt, for Maximilian he knew wouldn’t hesitate to beat him to a pulp, and he was more than capable of doing so. Lindsay had never felt as happy in her short life, and both realised that awkward silences were now a thing of the past. However, Maximilian’s mention of a toothless granny from Barmallia triggered dreamlike memories of her walk down the corridor to return. Then she considered the present at the ball to be just a dream, but she hoped the dream would return, for it felt more real and far happier to her than reality as she was aware of things. If it didn’t she knew she would be happy to die with her dream in her mind, nothing any could do to her could take that away from her. As her awareness faded she could hear Gervaldte’s screams and shouts of anger as four young men beat him not quite to death before almost drowning him in the slurry lagoon behind the milking parlour of a farmstead somewhere.
When Lindsay thought he awoke he was back in his own ragged clothes and aware that Barmallia almost seemed to be real. The wonder of the castle and of his female alter ego dressed in clothes that no one he knew could possibly have afforded to rent never mind own was no more than a different dream. He ran some errands for food scraps and Barkiss sent him to someone who for a generous handful of deals gave him a message to take to an assassin in a nearby city that would take him two days to deliver. On the way there a content Lindsay slept in a hayloft over the horses of a delivery business. The deals he’d been paid would keep him fed for months as well as buying him some new clothes. As he slept he dropped into and not always out of several dreams in which he was various of his alter egos, two of them persons he’d never been before. In several cases he was dreaming about dreaming several dreams deep. He awoke into the Barmalli dream exhausted, far more frightened of himself than he was of the assassin he’d contracted to contact. Assassins he knew were chancy folk to deal with for many had been known to kill a contact to ensure their silence and their own safety from the authorities.
That night Lindsay O’Luxxe dreamt she was Lindsay McColl delivering a message to an assassin instructing him whom to kill and informing him how he would be paid. The target was a brutal member of an upper echelon criminal family who had tortured many to death purely for entertainment. The word passing round the ordinary folk was that other upper echelon criminals had decided that he and his exotic hobby were bad for business and they had contributed much of the moneys required, but also hundreds if not thousands had contributed a deal or two to the assassin’s fee. Lindsay would be paid the remaining half of his fee on the assassin’s sucessful completion of the task. In her dream Lindsay knew that her other Lindsay was happy that the thug was going to die and he had already decided which dressmaker was going to provide his new clothes. He wanted Serena to make him an adult woman’s dirndl dress, complete with all the usual petticoats, and shawls but with a little more room in the bib, for growth he was going to explain. Lindsay McColl she knew was finally transitioning, and it was not before time.
When Lindsay finally awakened in the hospital bed, a woman who introduced herself as Doctor Mgan said, “Drink this. You need fluids, and it contains nutrients and a calming agent. It’s a mild herbal soother rather than powerful drug. I’m sure you have many questions, but I’ll give you a brief tale of what is happening. You are what my people call a dreamer. All folk dream, but the clarity and detail in a gifted dreamer’s dreams make them rare. On Torvinkt, that has made your life impossible, for you cannot connect to any kind of reality since you have been drifting into the next dream before fully exiting the previous one. You appear to have been having multiple simultaneous dreams as many different persons in many of which you dreamt of being in the others’ dreams. We have never come across this phenomenon of this complexity before and always considered it would create a paradox from which no dreamer would be able to escape back to a waking state, yet given fluids and nutrients you seem to be able to do so effortlessly.
“For years we have been aware of your thoughts and dreams, and recording them too, but despite having hundreds seeking you we had been unable to find you, for you eluded us by drifting from one dream to another so rapidly even our most sophisticated dream receivers not follow you. We believe you have spent most of your life dreaming only awakening long enough to eat, drink and see to immediate personal needs. When we finally found you, you were in dreams embedded in each other to a depth of fifty-six dreams. In some of those dreams you were in multiple other dreams and in dreams many deep in some of those too. We sustained your body to enable you to rise from one dream to the one above it and then to go deeper in and rise out of those too. Your dreams were not so much in a hierarchy but more a multiple dimensional spider’s web so tangled even now we can’t describe where you were. Helping you to escape from there was totally beyond us.
“You were nearly dead from dehydration and starvation. You were also covered in your own excrement. None of that was your fault. It is not unusual in the dreamers we have located, though you were in the worst condition we have ever encountered. You have been kept unconscious for over a month, and during that time we have brought you back to health which enabled you to rise out of the labyrinth of your dreams. We had no way to help you to achieve that, for your mind is so complex it passes all of our current understanding. all we could do was heal your body. You are not completely recovered yet, but you are nearly there. However, as to the future.
“I am from Maymar on Hirgalt on the other side of Devaal from Torvinkt which is where you are now. I am both a medical doctor and a dream consultant, and I represent many dreamers such as yourself, though I admit you are the most powerful dreamer ever known. Your history and background, appalling though they be, will provide you with the material to create dreams that no other dreamer could produce. Your dreams can be recorded and sold to many who seek such as entertainment, for few are lucky enough to be blessed with an imagination as vivid and detailed as yours. I would be proud to represent you and oversee your care, for yours is a unique talent that will bring you much wealth. I admit you becoming a household name as a result of that will do no harm to my professional reputation too. However, you will neither be exploited nor abused, for the lives of such as yourself are overseen by the dreams department of the Maymar Ministry of Entertainment. The Court of Chancery has oversight of all dreamers’ contractual matters, and they are currently the custodians on your behalf of all your dreams that we have recorded over the years. Without your express permission they may not be made available to any other than the dozen senior members of my team who have been looking after you. Not even the technicians who recorded your dreams have access to them. It is only my team who have been able to clean up and edit your dreams. Your dreams will bring happiness to many, though more importantly becoming a professional dreamer of the Maymar guild will put an end to the misery of your current life. If you would like a family there are many who would be honoured and feel privileged to be selected by you, but it is your choice. If you would prefer to live alone, luxurious accommodation will be provided, but the Court will insist that you choose a companion to ensure your safety. Of course you could choose to return to Barmallia and be free of us all including the Court. None will make you do anything. It is all for you to decide.”
Lindsay considered Doctor Mgan’s words and after several minutes said, “I would like to stay here and have a family.” Lindsay hesitated a moment before asking, “Could I live with you?”
There were tears in the doctor’s eye’s as she said, “I would be honoured. I am married and have two teenage daughters and a son who is a bit younger than you appear to be. My name is Lydia.” Seeing the look of hurt on Lindsay’s face she hurriedly added, “But you may call me Mama if you choose.” Seeing the smile return to Lindsay’s face she realised it was the right thing to have said. Lydia offered a hug and continued, “Are you sure about this, Lindsay? The Court will quite properly insist that you explain that is truly your desire to them in person, to make sure I am not manipulating you for my own ends.”
With tears pouring down Lindsay’s face and soaking Lydia’s bosom, Lindsay nodded and replied, “Yes, Mama.” However, her mama’s reference to two daughters and a son made her think to ask, “Mama, who and what am I really? I feel like I am Lindsay, but am I Lindsay O’Luxxe the fourteen year old ambassador’s daughter? Or am I Lindsay McColl the ten year old street boy? Though those two account for at least half of my existence and have been the most frequent experiences for me, I seem to have been hundreds of others with hundreds of different names. What I am asking is am I any of those girls and boys I seem to have experienced being? As I look at myself my body moves in and out of focus. My breasts seem to phase in and out of being as does everything else that identifies me as either a girl or a boy. And my height is constantly changing. All of which means my clothes seem to change from being painfully tight to being ridiculously too large. This bra fits when I fit it and it is pointlessly embarrassing when I don’t need it. Who and what am I?”
The doctor took her time before replying as if she were seeking appropriate words. “Lindsay, your question is only meaningful when applied to ordinary folk like me. There is no answer to your question that can apply to gifted dreamers and certainly none that can be applied to yourself. Your ability to create and manipulate things means you are anyone or anything you wish to be. Eventually you will be able to stabilise your perception to that which you wish it to be. You will become better at it as your health improves. The frequent and uncontrollable transitions, phasing in and out of being as you put it, will cease as you develop your waking ability to focus on your inner vision of your reality. In short, you are your own reality.”
After her appearance at the Court of Chancery, which had been far less traumatic than Lindsay had thought it would be, Lindsay had lived with Lydia Mgan mostly as a daughter for three months. Three months in which her health had improved which had indeed enabled her to stabilise her perception of whatever reality she chose to live in at the time. She could now fall into a dream state at will for her dreams to be recorded and was as a result of the sale of her dreams that had been recorded whilst she had lived in Barmallia already a wealthy young woman. Her dreams of life as Lindsay McColl were especially popular. Investigations shewed that when she was dreaming of life as Lindsay McColl, there was such a child in Barmallia doing exactly what she dreamt and any characters who were not usually to be found there but who existed in her dreams were present when she was dreaming. Further investigations shewed that the same was true for all her dreams. However it had also been discovered that all of those characters that could be discovered remained present after she had ceased dreaming them into existence.
Lindsay tried living as many of her characters with Lydia’s family in order to settle down to one that suited her. She could not stop herself. Not knowing who she would present as the next time they saw her was disturbing for Lydia’s family, though Lydia was happy with the situation. Eventually Lindsay realised it was not fair to Lydia’s family, and she would have to leave in the near future. She liked them all, but knew and accepted that she was not a member of the family. She was a guest, and felt she was rapidly outstaying her welcome. She’d been happy living there and did not wish to live on her own, but she had no idea where she wished to live, who with and as whom. The only thing she was certain of was she wished to live as a girl.
Lindsay had been wondering how to tell Lydia of her thoughts concerning her future for a week or more, had come to no conclusions and was dozing in the afternoon sun outside in the garden listening to the birds and the insects. She decided to take a nap, so she took her headset out of her handbag [US purse] and put it on in case she had a dream. The headset was a dream receiver that uploaded her dreams to a central dream bank for her to review and if necessary edit at a later time.
She dreamt she was Lindsay O’Luxxe and was back in Maximilian’s arms. Maximilian was telling her the latest news concerning Gervaldte. “After he was caught trying to put his hands inside the bodice of that government official’s daughter by her brothers at the party and subsequently beaten and dunked in the manure slurry lagoon he was sent back to his family’s estates on the northern coast where he was apprenticed to a local printer. You’d think he’d have learnt his lesson from that, but no, Gervaldte was soon up to his usual tricks. He claimed he’d seduced the forester’s daughter and that she went willingly, but the maid claimed rape. The bruises on her body and the scratches on Gervaldte’s face and arms evidenced the maid’s version of events. Gervaldte was publicly flogged, and his family heavily fined. The family paid the fine, and one of his uncles publicly declared that should Gervaldte do anything remotely similar again he would personally geld him along with the bull calves which settled the public ill will towards the family if not towards Gervaldte. At that things settled down, till that was the maid was discovered to be with child. Parts of the next bit of the tale are a little uncertain, but what is certain is that Gervaldte disappeared for a fortnight, as did three of the maid’s brothers. It is said they had kidnapped Gervaldte and had beaten him till he agreed to marry their sister. That could just be talk, but what is known is he sought the maid’s papa asking to marry her. He had clearly been beaten badly, but he referred to it not. The maid’s papa agreed, and they were wed the following morning. The papa explained his haste was because he wanted to make sure he’d safeguarded his daughter’s reputation as a married woman with a child before Gervaldte took off as he considered that to be more than likely. Not he admitted that that would bother him, his daughter and his family, for none liked his son in law and all considered him to be a liability rather than an asset to the family.
“After that things were quiet for several days, but Gervaldte was no different, and he put his hand up a bar maid’s skirts one eve in a tavern. He was dragged out, tied to a waggon wheel and thrashed with a horse whip by half a dozen young men. When their arms became tired another took over. Talk was he was lucky to survive. After the thrashing he was untied and the blood washed off him with several pails of ditch water. He may well have survived the thrashing, but the next day he was discovered nailed to a tree with a pointed steel stake driven through his heart several inches into the tree. It must have been done by several, for his feet were a yard off the ground. The local magistrate refused to authorise an investigation saying that given Gervaldte’s widely known behaviour he was not prepared to make the public purse pay for an investigation into the death of a known lecher who’d just sexually assaulted a maid of known chastity. He closed the case saying he was officially declaring it to be case of Natural Justice and that whoever had done it was henceforth declared a public benefactor who had carried out an act of beneficence on behalf of the public. The folk who lived round there were more than happy with the verdict, and even happier Gervaldte was dead, for the barmaid was not the first woman nor girl who had been discomforted by him, though she would be the last.
“Gervaldte’s family had him buried in an unmarked shallow grave on the estate miles away from the family plot and no outsiders were present. The rumour is his siblings refused to attend and only his parents and the estate worker who’d dug the grave were there. The estate worker was only there to refill the grave, but again that could be just talk. His parents gladly took his wife in as a daughter. His papa is known to have said he’d got the best end of an initially bad bargain, another loving dutiful daughter who got on well with her new sisters and family, a grandchild in the making and neither he nor his brothers had had to deal with Gervaldte. His mama has recently announced her youngest brother and the widow wish to marry which will keep the whole matter within the family. His papa has said any who thinks it is proper for his new daughter to wait the usual widow’s year of mourning before remarrying is not in their right frame of mind, so I suspect they are already married by now. Give it a couple of months and the gossip will have died down and in a year few will even remember the events. By the time she has two or three children it will be completely over. Eventually Gervaldte will become a myth, a bogeyman to frighten children with like the troll under the bridge.”
“It’s shocking, Maximilian, but I can’t say it’s surprising. It made my skin crawl just being in the same room as him, and when he looked at me I felt besmirched and dirty.”
“That’s more or less what every other young woman and girl has said too. He wasn’t just a lecher, for he went way beyond that. It was inevitable that his end would be violent. My sisters tell me that a lot of girls and young women are saying prayers of gratitude that he is now dead, and that his own sisters are among them, for apparently even they were not exempt from his attentions. They say that there is a feeling of relief rather than grief in the family, and even his mama is relieved. She’s sad rather than grief stricken, but with a daughter’s wedding, for that is how the family take the widow to be, and a grandchild to look forward to she is recovering rapidly.”
When Lindsay awoke she had things at the back of her mind, but couldn’t recall them. Knowing they were important to her she went to review her dream and was surprised to see the depth of details that had been recorded. There were a lot of details there that she had not been aware of during her dreaming. It were as if she’d been there watching Gervaldte’s perverse acts and the consequences. Too she was there when the forester’s sons had kidnapped and tortured Gervaldte till he agreed to marry their sister and say nothing concerning their activities, for fear they would entertain him, as they put it, again. The dream recorded Gervaldte’s thrashing and subsequent death by being nailed to the tree and the magistrate’s proclamation and verdict too. Every detail, every lash of the whip, every hammer blow on the steel stake, it was all there, including the identities of the thrashers and those who’d finally killed Gervaldte by nailing him to the tree from the waggon whose wheel they’d thrashed him on.
The barmaid had been a daughter of the local blacksmith who’d provided the steel stake, though it had been his apprentice, the barmaid’s betrothed, who’d provided the strength to drive it through Gervaldte’s heart and into the tree. Lindsay could hear him saying to the others, “The bastard will neither assault nor rape any more girls and women after this. I’ll make sure of it.” That had been just before his first blow which had taken Gervaldte’s life and pinned him to the tree well enough for the others who’d been holding him up to release him and allow the blacksmith to finish his task taking bigger swings of his hammer now unimpeded by their proximity. The young blacksmith had finished by slicing off Gervaldte genitals with his belt knife saying, “He’ll not be needing these again, and they’ll have to bury him without.” Gervaldte had been insensible of the stake that had killed him, but had twitched on the tree for several minutes. When he’d finally stopped twitching the men had followed the young blacksmith to the forge where he pumped the bellows for a minute and consigned Gervaldte’s genitals to the white hot fire before they returned to the tavern for the smith’s betrothed, who was unaware of their activities, to serve them beer for the rest of the evening. Lindsay was disappointed, for alas there was no recall of what she was seeking.
It was a further ten days before it occurred to Lindsay exactly what she had been seeking. How much of her dreams was there out in the world when she was awake? Did Menaught, Gervallia and Wassam exist? Did Ambassador Gregor O’Luxxe and Bridget his wife? If so, did they have a daughter? If so was it herself? Did the minister Lord Peter Fendelt and his wife Vahalliah exist? If they did, did their son Maximilian? Did they even have a son? More to the point she pondered, if there be any reality at all to her dreams where did she fit in with that reality? The one thing she hadn’t bothered to question was any reality concerning Gervaldte.
Lindsay made enquiries and was astonished that her dreams of the matter were extremely popular in Menaught, Gervallia and Wassam too. Lord Fendelt and his wife did indeed have a seventeen year old son named Maximilian. Ambassador O’Luxxe and his wife, however, had no children. What astonished her further was that likenesses of them shewed them all to look exactly like they did in her dreams, and all had sought permission from the dreams department of the Maymar Ministry of Entertainment to approach her for discussion concerning her dreams. She’d not been aware they needed permission and had contacted the Ministry to grant immediate permission.
Maximilian was every bit as good looking as she’d dreamt him to be, and they couldn’t take their eyes off each other. Lydia suggested that they sat next to each other and held hands, so she could pay at least some attention to the Minister and the Ambassador, whose wives both had tears in their eyes. Lindsay went to the women and hugged them in turn saying “We have lots to talk about, but let’s get the practicalities of the politics out of the way first shall we? She sat next to Maximilian and reached for his hand saying, “Gentlemen, you now have my attention.”
Ambassador O’Luxxe was the first to speak. “The accords you dreamt are not a reality, we wish they were, but those talks, and so of course the celebration ball too, have never taken place and tension is high over the situation regarding Wassam. We are on the brink of war.”
Lord Fendelt added, “We wondered if there were any details you are aware of that were not in the dreams we have watched. We would very much like to bring about those accords and should you be able to help us we have agreed to both give you Ambassadorial and Ministerial status with the salaries that go with them. Can you help us to avoid war? Both our governments have empowered us to do almost anything to bring about if not a peaceful solution at least one that does not involve our young men dying.” Very seriously he added, “War is bad for the economy and hard on the nerves too.”
Lindsay, who realised he was not trying to be witty but was deadly serious, thought for a few minutes and said, “I neither need nor want the status and the money. I would rather you both owed me a favour which I almost certainly shall call in in the near future. I can review my dreams and see if there is anything that comes to my mind. If not I can dream something else for you. However, it occurs to me that you have taken the first step. You two are talking directly with each other without all the civil servants that in my dream you mentioned being on your negotiating teams. I also recall the two retired diplomats in my dream talking about traitors in both of your governments and civil servants too colluding with each other and investing in arms and munitions and fomenting war. Have you looked into that and started rounding them up yet?”
“There were no such scenes in the dream copies I have seen,” the Ambassador said looking to the Minister who was shaking his head in agreement. “But we certainly shall be doing so now.”
“When you start you will need to increase your personal security against assassins. I know little of such things, but in one of my dreams I engaged an assassin for the elimination of a high ranking persecutor and oppressor of ordinary persons, and he seemed to regard it as a ludicrously easy thing to accomplish. I don’t know the exact terms on which you reached agreement in my dreams, but I do know Wassam became part of Gervallia as it was years ago and so Gervallia became responsible for the civil administration. Too, the all industries that in the main Menaught initially paid to set up were amalgamated into one company with an equal share going to each nation. The civil administrative costs of Wassam and its new military were paid out of the gross before tax profits and then you agreed to allow low ranking civil servants argue over the taxation on a year by year basis. You seem surprised, Gentlemen. Why? You did say that you had seen my dreams.”
“We have, we have even watched them together to see if between us we could glean a little more out of them, but there seems to have been a lot of detail missing that you are now referring to. What you have just told us is the outline of a solution that, without too much effort on our parts, we should be able to produce a complete solution from. A solution that we had no concept of before for which we are both extremely grateful. However, if there is anything at all that you could add to guide us as to how we should proceed we would be even more grateful.”
Lindsay looked at Lydia and asked, “How is that possible?”
“Those dreams were recorded from here in Maymar before we found you in Barmallia which is considerable distance away. Where we found you was half way round Devaal from where we are based and as far away from there as it is possible to be. That distance will have led to a loss of clarity. I believe there was some interference from the dreams of other less gifted and less powerful dreamers, but most of the interference came from your other dreams that were going on simultaneously. I suspect my team edited out the garbled and unclear portions which appear to have been the most politically, or perhaps I should say diplomatically useful sequences, so it is understandable. It’s up to you what happens next, Lindsay. What do you wish to do?”
“Can we have a commercial quality dream receiver set up here? I could re dream the original with all the details within a half of an hour. Then the Ambassador and the Minister can watch it, and will have as much information as I have. If they need more we can discuss that and I can dream it for them.”
“Yes we can do that. I suggest we have lunch and the equipment will have been set up ready for you by the time we finish eating.”
Lindsay nodded in agreement and asked, “Is that agreeable, Gentlemen?”
Both men said, “Indeed.”
Maximilian who had been silent so far asked, “In your dreams did you really love me?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t seem that the dreams and what is happening right now are at all much different. Did Gervaldte really die nailed to a tree?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“You told me all about it. In a dream. I recorded it. You can watch that one when our papas are watching the one about the treaty.” Lindsay realised what she had just said and blushed.
The Ambassador’s wife had picked up on it immediately and asked, “Is that how you truly see us? As your parents?”
“Yes, because the me you see in front of you right now is a reality that came from my dreams, and in those dreams you were always there, Papa too. I may not be real real, but you are the real real mama of the unreal real me. You are my Mama.”
Lydia smiled and said, “I understand, Lindsay. I have always known I was never more than someone who stood in for a mama when you needed someone to care for and about you. I enjoyed you being with us, but I always knew that one day you would leave. Indeed that one day you would have to leave. You are always welcome back, and we all love you, but you need a family of your own and you have clearly found it.”
Bridget held her arms out and said, “The first time I saw you in that dream my heart ached with the loss of something I assumed wasn’t real, and yet here you are.” She kissed Lindsay’s forehead.
Vahalliah reached out to hug Lindsay and whispered, “Maximilian hasn’t been the same since he saw the dream. For him you were an impossible dream, yet as your mama said, here you are.”
After lunch, Lindsay dreamt her dreams again running them altogether into one continuous saga. She was surprised by how much more detail it all contained than she remembered. Though it took her barely twenty minutes to dream, it took the two men three hours to watch her dream replay in real time. Whilst they watched that, Maximilian watched the dream containing Gervaldte’s death which was a quarter of an hour longer, and Lindsay chatted with Lydia, her mama and Vahalliah. She was especially interested in Maximilian’s sisters, and was invited to stay for a month or so to meet them. Lydia insisted she accepted, and her mama suggested she returned home with herself and Lindsay’s papa, so that she could be measured by the dress makers, and go to stay with Maximilian’s family after she had some clothes sewn up, for there were sure to be dances to attend and all sorts of other entertainments too. Vahalliah agreed and said her dressmakers would continue with the task whilst Lindsay stayed with them. The women exchanged speaking glances, and whole conversations passed between them in those glances. Like their husbands they had rapidly become friends, but would soon be related via their children and shared grandchildren.
“Most gratifying, Lady Lindsay. Most gratifying indeed. Your dream has given us the framework to thrash out a treaty in short order. We can go back to our governments and insist that this is grounds to stand down the troops and that not to do so is a signal of ill will, and neither of us wish that. We shall insist that our governments acknowledge that we owe you a great favour indeed. Anything you wish as long as it doesn’t take us to war. Titles, land, property, money, whatever you want it shall be provided.”
“I want nothing like that, My Lord. However, if there is any land or property that is particularly contentious it may be a solution that you settle it on my future children. As our papas the management of such could reasonably be managed by the pair of you till those children are of age. Would that be helpful?”
“My dear, Lady Lindsay, that would be an admirable solution to a few particularly thorny issues.” Lindsay’s papa nodded in agreement. “But what is it that you would like?”
“I shall need new lives for some hundreds of poverty stricken individuals from Barmallia and other places. The adults will need employment and training opportunities, homes and citizenship. The children will need families, education and citizenship too. I intend to drive the same bargain with Papa. Do you think that is possible?”
The two men nodded their heads, amazed that she wanted so little. Her papa asked, “Who are these persons, My Love?”
“Folk who featured in my dreams and who helped me despite their own need of help. Some of them are other versions of myself.”
Lord Fendelt said, “It would be a great honour to help such, especially other versions of yourself. I would be willing to take many such into my own family, especially sons, for whilst I have many daughters I only have the one son, and you are about to take him from me, for I suspect that Maximilian’s future lies in supporting you rather than in taking over management of the family estates. That is an onerous task and you allowing me to adopt half a dozen sons that were alternate versions of your self would I deem indeed be a boon, for then I can retire to supervise quality control of the saleable products from my vineyards.” There was a great deal of laughter at that, for Lord Fendelt was a known wine expert who enjoyed a glass.
The ambassador smiled and said, “I don’t have the need of sons that you do my friend, but my wife and I would be more than happy to acquire daughters. Bridget would welcome girls in her life and daughters always make the life of an ambassador easier.”
The two men returned to conversation with each other noting further ideas as they talked. Taking advantage of the silence Maximilian said, “That dream of yours was exactly what happened, only it provided details that none here are aware of too. Not least the identities of some of the persons involved. Not that it matters, for none are going to do anything about what happened since the verdict has already been given as Natural Justice which ends the matter. You are a terrifyingly powerful person, Lindsay.” Maximilian was clearly not completely at ease with her after having watched the dream, but he went on to say, “I suggest that a copy of the dream be sent to the magistrate who refused to investigate Gervaldte’s death and who ruled it to be Natural Justice. Then it will no longer be an unsolved matter, and will pass over in the minds of those who live there faster.”
It had been relatively easy to dream nearly all of the persons Lindsay wished to help into better lives in Menaught and Gervallia, for most had been more than willing to go. A few, who were all alternative versions of herself, she had to work on, but eventually there was just Lindsay McColl left. Lindsay McColl was problematic for Lindsay O’Luxxe and she knew she would have to approach him herself and be very persuasive. Barmallia was a dangerous place for such as she, and she would have to take guards, several hundred guards, which would drive Lindsay McColl into hiding. However, she knew she could dream him into hiding where she could approach him to talk to. The offer of food and a stack of copper deals would she knew keep him listening to her.
Max was not in favour of her putting herself in danger and was upset when she refused to take him with her. “You have obligations, Max, especially to your family. Your father needs you here. Too, I don’t wish my attention to be divided between you and my sister. Right now she needs me more than you do.” That she was obdurate nearly led to their first major disagreement, but Max’s mother told him he had to back down for he was not being respectful of Lindsay’s sense of honour.
What had initially attracted Lindsay McColl had been Lindsay’s statement, “The deals are unclipped and twice as thick as usual, here take one and heft it’s weight. I have a hundred of them and good food too. All I want in return is that you listen to me for an hour.”
Lindsay McColl nodded in agreement, but with a puzzled look on his face he asked, “How is it possible that I think I recognise you from somewhere? I’ve never met, nor even heard of any one as rich as you nor as finely dressed as you. No one round here has as many men as you and they certainly wouldn’t pay for their weapons and expensive looking clothes like your men are wearing and bearing. Since they are all dressed and armed the same I presume you paid for their clothes and arms. And why would someone like you want to talk to me?”
Despite being dressed in clothes so plain that she would never embarrass any of her acquaintance by appearing in front of them wearing Lindsay thought to herself, ‘This is going better than I thought it would,’ before saying, “I’m going to ask you some questions that may sound odd to you, but I want you to take them seriously, okay?”
“The amount your paying me for my time you can ask anything you like, and I’ll take all you say as truth uttered by the high priest from the temple of Wichum, even if all know he is the father of all lies.”
“I want you to think about your dreams, especially recent dreams.”
Lindsay heard Lindsay McColl take a sharp intake of breath and saw him flinch and pull away from herself. “Are you real? If I touch you will my hand go through you or fall off? You’re a ghost aren’t you? I’ve just realised I’ve seen you lots of times in my dreams, and sometimes I’ve dreamt you were dreaming of me. Am I going mad? Or dying?”
“No, Lindsay McColl. You are not going mad, nor are you dying. You are real. I am real, and I am Lindsay O’Luxxe. We are dreamers. It’s what we do, but you and I are special and powerful dreamers. We can exist in each others’ dreams at the same time. In some ways we are the same person. In others we are sisters.”
“How can I be your sister? Your brother maybe, but not your sister. Why are you here? What do you want? And how can we be the same person?”
“I want you to listen carefully without interrupting me. What I am about to tell you will only make sense to you when I have finished. Some time ago we were the same person living here in Barmallia. Our dreams were so powerful they reached to Maymar, which is on the far side of Devaal, where they were recorded. Hundreds of persons searched for us. After years not months they found us nearly dead from dreaming and lack of personal care. They took us back to Maymar and brought us back to health. It took a long time. We were unconscious for over a month. Once I awoke I had little control over myself or maybe that should be we had little control over ourselves, for I was still us then not me. There were and I suppose still are hundreds of us though mostly we existed as you or me. Our body kept changing from you to me and sometimes others too. Once I became healthier and stronger my control became much better and eventually I chose to remain as me, the me you see in front of you. But my dreams recreated you back in Barmallia as it created many others of us who I subsequently had brought to Hirgalt for a better life along with others who helped us. However, it is equally true to say that your dreams created me, for we are us. Like you, I always deal true and I always pay my debts. Now we are separate with separate bodies, but we are still one in many ways. I wish to help you because I am you and you are me.
“I want you to come home with me. I am here to arrange it all. I know about carrying the message to engage the assassin to kill Tomas, and the new dresses made by Serena your fee paid for. I know you know you are really a girl. I know all about those new clothes and where you keep them. I know how you get past the guards dressing as a girl, but you won’t be able to do that for much longer will you? It will not be safe for you here when the guards discover that you have been tricking them. I said I want you to come home with me, but I want you as my sister, the girl you want to be. I know you wish to be able to read and write, and I can give you that and much more too.”
After Lindsay McColl had managed to get over the shock at having all his deepest secrets so casually discussed he asked, “How?”
“By dreaming it. How else? I know you’re on the edge of discovering for yourself the abilities that dreaming gives you. I can help you. I had to find it all out for myself, and I nearly died from it, but I can help you.”
Lindsay McColl nodded. Lots of things were beginning to make sense and the girl in front of him did seem to have answers to questions he realised he’d been on the edge of asking for a long time. “Okay. I believe you. I trust you. What happens next?”
“The most important thing is to get you to safety. That means out of Barmallia and back to my home. I’m from Gervallia, but our papa is the Ambassador to Menaught and we live in the embassy just outside Menaught City—”
“The Castle. You live in that Castle with those long corridors don’t you?”
“Yes we live in the Castle.”
“So how do we do that?”
“You come with me and the guards. You don’t need to bring anything. I know you have nothing that matters to you other than clothes, but we’ll have better ones made, and I know there’s none you wish to say goodbye to. I have a pretty dress and shoes for you to wear with me. When you leave here you leave as a girl, the girl you will be for the rest of your life. I want you out of here and onto our ship as soon as we can do it. There are lots of nice clothes, girl’s clothes for you in your size on the ship. Everything you need is on the ship. I know the sizes are correct because I know you as well as I know myself because as I said in some ways we are the same person. The ship, a warm bath, a pretty dress, none of the guards with me will have a problem about that, and a decent hot meal with a glass of wine. I know you like red wine, and I know you will like what I will give you to taste, for it’s better by far than any you have ever stolen before.” She did not say anything concerning that Lindsay McColl would awake after her first sleep as her younger sister.
“How?”
“I dream you as a girl and that’s what eventually you will become. You would have been able to do it yourself soon, but it’s better this way because if I do it there will be no instability and morphing into other bodies that initially you will not be able to control. Okay?”
Lindsay McColl was crying, but they were happy tears. The girls hugged and Lindsay McColl asked, “How long does it take to get to your home?”
“It’s our home. It can be accomplished in a matter of days in one of our modern ships, but I wished to give you time to become used to being your new self.” Lindsay blushed but continued, “and I wished time for us to become acquainted as sisters properly, so I came in an old sailing ship that is mostly considered to be a museum piece used for carnivals, celebrations and the like. It will take us three months. Three months during which we’ll become sisters in truth, and I’ll tell you all about Mama, Papa, my fiancé Maximilian, what’s going on at home and about dreaming and Doctor Lydia Mgan who is a dream specialist who will help you to control your abilities. Most of that I can tell you when you are asleep. I’ll teach you everything you need to know about being a girl when you sleep too. Dreaming will make you wealthy, very wealthy. Now some questions that we can answer right away. I know you wish to be a girl, but do you wish to remain as my younger sister? I could dream you to be my age if you like or younger or older.”
“My age is good.” She blushed before saying, “I like the idea of an older sister. I know older girls have periods, but I don’t know anything about that, so I’ll need help because at my age it can’t be far away. Tell me about Mama and Papa. I never had any family before.”
Lindsay started to tell her younger sister about their family as she dressed in her new clothes. The two girls were escorted by their soldiers down to the ship, and none of the soldiers nor any other aboard ship ever saw Lindsay McColl dressed as anything other than a girl. Her older sister helped her with her with her first bath in private, and none of the dozen or so women of all ages aboard the ship ever saw her dressed or otherwise as anything other than a girl, for so she became during her first night’s sleep aboard ship.
~o~O~o~
When they arrived at the Castle Lindsay McColl was completely happy with being a girl, which was as well because she’d been correct, and had experienced her menarche aboard ship. The elder Lindsay’s maid had pierced her ears and installed the studs saying, “They need to be done now so they are healed when we arrive home. You never know what situations you will be in that require earrings.” The younger Lindsay had not really considered what that had meant.
The presence of the women had made it natural for her to gravitate towards women for company. She was amazed that the women were there purely to support Lindsay and herself and considered themselves to be subservient to both of them. She was even more amazed when a woman of perhaps twenty curtseyed and said, “I am Francesca, My Lady, and I have been assigned as your personal maid. If you wish a different maid all you have to do is say so.” That was when she realised the significance of being a dreamer and the status being an Ambassador’s daughter gave her. The guards and the sailors had all treated her with the upmost of respect and had always referred to her as Lady or your Ladyship which at first she’d ascribed to being just good manners, but Francesca’s attitude seem to indicate there was more to it than just good manners.
There had been endless discussion between the girls on board ship concerning their names which Lindsay McColl had solved by changing her name to Lynsey. “After all, Lindsay, “ she’d said, “They don’t sound remotely the same to any one of any intelligence,(1) and I’d like a new name for a new beginning even if it is only a small change.” It had been a shock for her to discover she would officially be Lady Lynsey O’Luxxe, and that was why the sailors and the guards had referred to her in the way they had.
She’d been nervous concerning meeting her parents, but she needn’t have been worried, for both had been eagerly awaiting her arrival, and her mama’s kisses and hugs to made her realise she’d found family. Her Papa had kissed her cheek and said, “Welcome home, Sweetheart. We were overwhelmed to discover a daughter in Lindsay, but to have two daughters is to have a family and you have no idea how happy that makes both your mama and I.”
She’d kissed him back and giggled saying, “You need a shave, Papa.”
“I was about to have one when my man servant told me your ship had docked. My appologies, but I couldn’t wait to greet you. Now if you don’t mind I’ll leave you to return to my bathroom and razor and leave you to you mama and sister who doubtless have several convoy loads of dresses and assorted feminine fripperies for you to try on. I’ll probably not be able to get near you for the platoons of maids, dressers, dress makers, hair dressers and the like before dinner, so I shall see you then.
It had been an even bigger shock than discovering she had a title to discover that she was expected to attend the ball threwn to celebrate her parents’ wedding anniversary. Both sisters spent ten mornings trying on clothes, shoes, and accessories in order to have all ready for the ball, and ten afternoons under the tutelage of an ancient dancing master who insisted on perfection. Lindsay had no need of dancing instruction, but Lynsey needed her support. Lynsey was overwhelmed by the pearl set that her mama had insisted she accepted as a gift saying, “They are perfect for a girl of your age at formal events. It’s good that Viola pierced your ears, for clasps look so ungainly, and one looks foolish if one comes adrift. The tiara is barely there, not at all ostentatious. The pearls are all small and perfect for you, so lets try it all.” Her mama brushed her hair till it shone and placed the tiara just behind her forehead so it held her hair in place. As she fastened the triple rows of pearls around her neck and wrist she said, “Your sister has the same, but she’s older and bigger than you, so the pearls in her set are all slightly larger, but these will look right on you for a couple of years. Then maybe you wear Lindsay’s and we buy her a set with slightly larger pearls.” As she inserted the earring posts and fixed the fastenings behind Lynsey’s ears she exclaimed, “Perfect. The pair of you will make other girl’s so jealous, and the boys will be queuing up to dance, but I’ll have your dance cards filled up long before then. Lindsay has put Maximilian down for at least every third dance, and I don’t doubt you’ll be doing something similar soon. Just your make up and some scent and you are ready.”
It was at the ball that Lynsey met fifteen year old Eustace, a cousin of Maximilian. He’d been down on her card for the dance before dinner and to take her in to dinner. To her regret, he’d only had the one dance, and she’d been taken in to supper by an older boy she escaped from as soon as possible. He’d spent the entire time telling her how much money his family had and how important and powerful they were, not omitting to make sure she was aware he was the eldest son and his papa’s heir. She told her sister when they were being undressed by their maids ready for bed, “But worst of all, Lindsay, he wasn’t even passably handsome.”
That had all four of the young women giggling and Francesca, Lynsey’s maid had said, “Oh no that wouldn’t do at all, Lady Lynsey. I couldn’t possibly maid for a young lady with such poor taste as to choose a plain looking young man. Absolutely impossible. My reputation downstairs wouldn’t survive it. Have you any idea how long it took me to become a real Lady’s lady’s maid.” Which set them all off giggling again. Once in bed Lynsey ran the events of the evening over in her mind. She’d been nervous to start with, but had soon started to enjoy herself. Whatever his name was had been a boring boor, and he wasn’t just plain, he was as ugly on the inside as he was on the outside. Eustace, now he was handsome, and charmingly good company. Yes Eustace she did like. She was thinking about Eustace as she fell asleep to dream about him. When she awoke she took her headset off and saw the light indicating there was content there. Later that afternoon she replayed her dream and was pleasantly surprised by the romantic content. She and Eustace did make a good couple, and she wondered what kissing him would be like. She resolved to find out in her next dream. Lindsay had said with enough experience she would be able to direct her dreams just before succumbing to sleep. That evening she tried. It wasn’t wholly successful, she’d had a brief kiss, enjoyed it and wanted more. The following afternoon, Doctor Mgan had said for some reason her abilities were progressing much faster than they had been. Lynsey gave no explanations, but knew she now had considerable motivation to succeed.
A week later Maximilian said to Lindsay, “I’ve just seen your sister and Eustace kissing in the formal gardens, and it didn’t look like hormone driven teenage lust. It looked like they really cared for each other. I hope it works because that will get my aunt of Eustace’s back. She’s been really pressing him to find a girl from a good family and arranging introductions for him by the bushel load. He’s only fifteen, and I know he’s the eldest, but he does have three brothers to ensure the succession. However, she’s really pushy and I think she believes that when an appropriate young lady has her brand on him there’s no chance of him turning out to be like Gervaldte. There’s not, for he’s always been a decent and kind boy to girls and boys both. His sisters both elder and younger think he’s wonderful. He’d always despised Gervaldte and never troubled to hide it from him, but Auntie will leave him alone if they form a couple because she won’t dare upset your parents in case they forbid Lynsey to see him. She’s very class conscious, and Lynsey is as upper an upper class girl as they come, so Auntie will be delighted.
“I think that’s the nightmare of every mama with teenage boys in Menaught at the moment, and though it’s silly, for even Papa says Gervaldte was thankfully a once in a hundred years phenomenon, still those mamas worry about it. I suspect we’re about to witness a veritable epidemic of betrothals in Menaught amongst teenage society boys and girls in the coming months, for mamas see it as the perfect solution. They know that once betrothed their sons and daughters to be will be sneaking kisses whenever they can, but they will look the other way, for they reason their sons, and daughters too, won’t look further afield when they have a guaranteed source of kisses and cuddles, if not more, closer to home. I’ve heard one of my aunts say that if things progress faster than they perhaps should it just moves the wedding forward and there’re always the grandchildren to look forward to.”
Lindsay chuckled and said, “Let’s hope she doesn’t find out about Lynsey’s background, Maximilian, or we’ll all be in the slurry tank together.” The couple laught, and Lindsay asked, “Is that what your mama thinks about us do you think?”
“Probably, but I suspect she realises that we realise the importance of our wedding in terms of the treaty. I don’t know about you, but I really don’t wish to do anything to upset the peace, for till some time has gone by and that includes our wedding which will inevitably be a very public affair the peace is still a rather fragile matter. I understand that the wedding is no longer going to be held in the Embassy and paid for by your papa. In gratitude to you averting the war it is now to be paid for by the Gervalli and Menaughtan governments, who agreed no wedding could cost even an infinitesimal part of the cost of a war, and to avoid any ill feelings it is going to be held in Wassam. Not that I don’t wish to ravish you you understand, but I truly believe it to be more sensible to wait, so that the folk of all three nations can enjoy our wedding too which will fix the peace more firmly in their minds and enable them to accept that now there are only two nations.”
“Yes. I feel the same. I really don’t care who pays for it or where we get married, as long as we do get married. It’s a pity we can’t get a bit of practice in before the wedding, but there are lots of other things we can do that don’t risk an early marriage aren’t there? I’ve been talking to Lynsey about it, and she’s seen a lot more than I as a result of where and how she grew up. She was friendly with any number of prostitutes who were happy to talk shop in front of her. She’s a positive fount of sexual wisdom. As I understand it under the right circumstances being ravished is thoroughly enjoyable for even a young lady of impeccable family background like myself.” Lindsay smiled mischievously and continued, “Talking of our wedding. Of course Lynsey is going to be my chief bridesmaid, but would your sisters want to be bridesmaids too do you think?”
“They’ve been giving Mama a hard time trying to get her to ask you, but she refused and said it was poor etiquette to ask and they had to wait for the bride to ask them. You want me to tell Mama?”
“Please. Then that’s one more thing I can cross off the list. Fortunately Mama is organising it all. Left to myself I think I’d run away to Barmallia to escape all the chaos our wedding seems to be causing. Completely changing the subject.” She kissed Maximilian and continued, “I’ve starting to have some very erotic dreams recently. You know, my wedding night, the first time, love making, being pregnant and nursing a baby. I always wear my headset at night, but there’s no way those dreams are going on sale. I know there’s a huge market for pornographic dreams, but I have no intention of ever being a porn dreamer, though you can watch them if you like.”
“No. Wipe them if you want. I’m marrying the real thing, so why would I want to watch second hand pornography when I can be the leading actor in private?”
Lindsay nodded and said, “Okay. I just wondered what you would want me to do with them. Your aunt has nothing to worry about you know. Like most girls of her age Lynsey has been dreaming about finding a nice boy to fall in love with for months. Not surprisingly, given her talents, it would appear she has been spectacularly sucessful.”
Lady Bridget O’Luxxe married to Ambassador Gregor O’Luxxe
Lady Vahalliah Fendelt married to Lord Peter Fendelt
Lady Lindsay O’Luxxe engaged to Lord Maximilian Fendelt
Lady Lynsey O’Luxxe in love with Lord Eustace Fendelt
1. An explanation of pronunciation triggered by a PM I received from Eric. In the part of the world I live the following is true. I appreciate it is different elsewhere.
Lindsay is pronounced Lind + say and it is a name used by more men than women probably two men for every woman use the name. It is especially popular in Scotland where it is also a widely used surname. One can clearly hear the stressed letter d, which is the major difference not the vowel sounds. A less common usage is Lyndsay which is pronounced the same as Lindsay.
Lynsey is pronounced Lin + zee and as far as I am aware the name is only used by women, but I am open to correction. A less common usage is Linsey which is pronounced the same as Lynsey. An even less common variant is Linsay which is pronounced Lin + say which is like Lindsay but without the letter d.
Dear Eric,
Thank you for letting me know regards Lindsay becoming Lyndsay. That was a mistake on my part, but I’ve done the edit. It was supposed to be Lindsay and Lynsey
As for Lindsay and Lynsey, in my neck of the woods they sound nothing like each other at all.
Lindsay is pronounced Lind + say and it is a name used by more men than women probably 2 men for every woman use the name. It is especially popular in Scotland where it is also a widely used surname. One can clearly hear the letter d, which is the major difference not the vowel sounds. A less common usage is Lyndsay which is pronounced the same.
Lynsey is pronounced Lin + zee and as far as I am aware the name is only used by women, but I am open to correction. A less common usage is Linsey which is pronounced the same. An even less common variant is Linsay which is pronounced Lin + say.
Having said that the ability to use and hear the two names major forms Lindsay and Linsey correctly is used by many educated folk especially teachers, perhaps unfairly, as a kind of shibboleth that is indicative of social class. It is a widespread usage in the UK, and Josephine uses the concept in Castle T S 0057 where there is an explanation of what is going on.
Whether one approves or not it is one of an endless number of language uses that give away one's social class. I sure there are an equal number in every language every where including the US. To name but three over here. The upper classes only ever say how do you do on shaking hands when meeting someone for the first time. Any response other than a simultaneously said how do you do means you are not one of them. Pleased to meet you is abhorrent to them. Likewise they only ever refer to the lavatory. Toilet, restroom, bathroom or anything else signifies to them the user is a social inferior or a foreigner. A upper class clergyman celebrating a marriage of upper class folk over here wouldn’t dream of saying you may now kiss the bride. That is regarded as an American usage that is fine in the States, but only adopted by the lower classes over here.
Language is such fun!
Thank you again, Eric
Regards
Eolwaen.
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And…?
Will there be a continuation of this interesting story?
Lindsay, literally
living the dream?
"Reach for the sun."