Stock in Trade 4

After six years of schooling, and another three of Breeder education, Charsfa went into law studies. He'd explained to his instructors what he planned on researching, and they all agreed it was about time someone did it. Veva had finished his Animal Mastery long before - but stuck it out in his Breeders classes long enough to get a strong healing degree. It would come in handy when he was helping out at Steed fairs as someone injured could come to him, as well as bring their Steed if it had become hurt. He thought himself rather smart for doing things that way.
He helped his cousin do the research though - because in that time he'd never forgotten that afternoon spent discussing politics and the ways of Ownership and Breeding laws. Neither of them at the time had known how painfully little the legal system really covered in terms of a broad overall accord for behavior among Breeders.
Nor that there was no set amount of learning, or even standardized instruction in terms of who learned what. They both found those things out the long, hard way.
Another thirty years passed before Charsfa's research could yield anything other than numbers. He'd looked over trends in schooling, birth tracking and Ownership, even delved into the specifics of every documented Breeding agreement to see where they were similar and where they diverged. This all was cross-referenced to who Owned the results, who didn't, when the contracts said one thing and turned out different results... It was a massive project. Most Breeders didn't take him seriously behind the machinery of a clinic, but they all knew of Charsfa the legal guy.
He was rightfully proud of that, too. To have become known merely by having asked the right questions. Well, that and having almost accidentally produced an heir with a brilliant young woman who'd shown up at a Breeders convention with her own mentor. He hadn't really understood why they were so attracted to one another - but he knew that she smelled good (wasn't that Veva's territory?) and he made darn sure that there were no other men around that would get close to her.
Generations later they'd call it Hyperfertility, but he didn't know it then, neither did she. But he had a little greeny-golden daughter running around with her mother's pointed ears and ability to sense electric things, and his height and strong telepathic level.
Charsfa invited Veva over to his new Zerin based office, in a coastal marsh town called Kua. It was centrally located on a flight path, and he'd chosen it because he was flying over it all the time when crossing the Lands doing his research. They relaxed in a wide open room that let in brilliant reflections from the huge ocean beyond.
"I've almost finished my work, and I need to know if this is what you had in mind, cousin." Charsfa said, handing Veva a big packet of typed paper. There were graphs and charts, but there was also a clear and easily read synopsis by the end.
Veva nodded slowly the whole time he was reading. When he got to the end, he leaned back and announced, "cousin, you have yourself a world-worthy document. Now we've just got to convince the rest of the Breeders in the world of that."

The gathering of Breeders in Kua during the Fifth Century Celebration was the biggest ever. That seemed to be the theme for the world at the moment, some fifteen years after Charsfa had finished his documentation and begun pushing for legal changes.
Nearly every one of the people present at the Breeders convention had read his discourse and at least commented on it somehow. Most of them seemed to be gently in agreement - though one or two very vocal camps were outright incensed. Now there would be a vote.
There were speakers over the course of the convention, the whole week was filled with clever seminars and demonstrations, showing off new methods or even the latest in success stories. Charsfa noticed his daughter there with her mother, grinned madly at them, and waited for them to come by. Veva politely refrained from drooling on Yezi, but neglected to remember that Yfe, their daughter, was rather more related to him. After getting a good sound nudge in the ribs, and a flaming mental warning, Veva simply said, "I'll be over there, then," and waited for his cousin to start his own speech.
Almost everyone knew that this was why this whole convention was being assembled. That Charsfa had arranged for it to come to him, rather than he to be shipped away again, was cleverness on his part. Finally with a gigantic proportion of the Breeder's population present in one grand hall, Charsfa was introduced to a round of far more than polite applause.
He began with a small introduction, and thanked his cousin for starting him on this course of action at all. Veva wanted to vanish, but didn't happen to have that particular ability, so he instead stood and waved his dark hand, then abruptly sat again. At that cue, Charsfa began to speak in his clear, deep voice about the ways and means of Breeder Law. Not everyone in the room, even though most were Breeders, were totally familiar with the specific laws. Many had people to 'do that for them'. Both parties would usually come to an agreement and someone else would write up the paperwork and most times everyone would go home happy. All this Charsfa explained carefully and without losing anyone's interest.
"I would never presume to know the minds of every Breeder - I have never met most of you and there are many more not present today. But I will ask that a measure be reached, by means of a complete Breeder vote, that these recommendations become Law."
Charsfa read off a list of brief, informative issues. "A Healer must complete the set courses listed below, to arrive at their Degree, without necessarily doing what we normally consider Breeding," he said, his words were followed on paper by nearly one hundred thousand eyes - not everyone was in the same room of course, the speech was being broadcast to other Breeders' locales. A copy of his discourse was in their hands, all around the world.
He outlined the methods of training, briefly, of a Healer's trade - that which Veva had taken. Then he spoke of the more detailed abilities of a First Degree Breeder, whose job it was to help out couples who didn't need any extensive work, but neonatal care, birthing clinics and pediatric efforts would be the main concern. Then he went on to Second Degree, mate brokering, that would keep track of pairs and their offspring to provide potential fertility without necessarily waiting to be asked. Then Third Degree, Selection - making the bold statement of Ownership of offspring chosen by the Breeder. That seemed to satisfy a number of Owners who had gone into Breeding, it was their input that led to that decision, even though those other than Owners would be given this opportunity with that Degree. His exposition of Fourth Degree, or Term Breeding made sense to those who had been working on long generations of features, those who sought out a line for one reason only, to make it more apparent in the gene pool. Fifth Degree Breeding, called by him to be Tuned Breeding, was hailed by the Animal Masters in the audience since their whole Status almost revolved around this phenomenon of choosing for mutations and powers, rather than appearance or other such mundanities. And lastly, of course, he addressed those who had the most technical outlook for Breeders, the Sixth Degree, or Engineered Breeders. They would be allowed many ways to create their work, the tools available to them were far more advanced than those which Second or Third Degree folk worked with, and with good reason.
There were specifics which would read differently by the end of the voting, but by the time Charsfa had finished reading his paper to the assemblage of highly educated and rather highly strung individuals, he was drowned out by a chorus of applause and cheering.
~I think they like it, Chars,~ Veva announced mentally. It was the only way he could possibly have told his cousin - the wild grin on Charsfa's face at this eager acceptance of his work made it clear that the golden-colored man knew it all already.

The elaborate hair on the woman near Veva's desk showed him only that she was rich. Tacky, but rich. Not the best combination in his opinion. The dual stationed Breeder/Animal Master, whose designation now officially read "Healer First Degree/Animal Master" on his Status identification, leaned back in his office chair and let his long tail twitch. He couldn't see the tip of it, it was wrapped around the base of his chair.
If he could possibly have distracted himself from the woman's hair, he would have. As it was, he almost burst out laughing. But, she was a paying customer.
"I would really love to have one of those spotted-deer hides, you know, the kind that have those ... spots?" She said, moving her ample bosom closer to Veva as if it would have made a difference. Had he his cousin's mental powers, he would have blotted out something rude he'd say and she would stop doing that. He didn't have those types of powers, sadly, so he had to refrain from saying something utterly tactless about her actions. Though he had a child that had been Bred by his relatives, he had little more interest in women than the animals he hunted.
"Of course," Veva finally said. "I will get my assistant to help you find where to get them. I assume you mean the kind we can hunt, not the kind you have to buy in a store." Veva pressed a button on his comm pad, and somewhere else in the large building a sound alerted his son to a job.
"Absolutely!" The woman tittered, "it's such a thrill watching the hunts! I have never been on one before, it sounds so amazing."
"Dangerous work," Veva said. "And difficult. The deer have long antlers, you know," he pointed out. "They do defend themselves. There is a reason why these hides and the others you've been so fond of are expensive, Lady Tresh."
Right about then, fortunately, Nenev showed up. Nenev, while he could become an Animal Master at any given time, due to his mutations and psionics with animals, had stopped his Status rise with Membayar. His father's long tail had remained in his genes, however the striped pattern to his skin had softened down to a two-tone fade from fingertips to elbow, toes to knee, and from the back of his head toward his face. He was still a dashing young man, those two colors were a rich black and a bright red-violet.
"Father?" He said, bowing, "you have a hunting job for me?"
"Yes," Veva breathed, as the woman stopped plying herself at him, and started doing so to his son, "Lady Tresh here is looking for Spotted Deer. This season should be good for them, do you think?"
"An excellent choice," Master Nenev announced with a smile. He extended his hand and the Lady took it with another titter.
They left his office and Veva sighed, thinking to himself that if that woman used any more animal hides on her fashions people might as well go back to living in caves and dancing around fires.

(Loosely translated.)
"The Rainbow People are never going to leave," yelled one young hunter. "The islands are filling with them! We have seen them!"
Another man, who was well known for his ability to carve boats, said, "I know they have come closer than you wish to believe, Chief, and I think they are a danger to us all."
The northern tribes of Neres were in rather an uproar. The islands to the north-east of their continent had been colonized slowly but surely by these tall, scary people from the sky. Everyone knew they were from the sky - there were legends from many many generations ago that told of the stars falling. This particular tribe was in fact smart enough to remember those tales and think about them in ways other than as portents to war.
The Chief of this tribe, a squat, powerful rugged hunter, grunted and nodded sagely. "You are correct, boatmaker, I know they have come too close to our shores. What do you suggest we do? They are many, even though they only travel in small numbers."
"They are like the marsh dwelling cat, they spring upon their prey in unexpected ways," said the boatman. "But they are taking our hunting grounds! Those islands are rich in prey but they will hunt them barren! Our fishing boats can be lashed together and used to carry weapons for land hunting."
"You think you can hunt these creatures? The Rainbow men?"
The boatman was backed up by half a dozen hunters, all of whom he had escorted back and forth between Neres and the northern islands, many times. They began to cheer in their grunting, angry way.
"Then let this tribe be the vanguard of protection for our lands! Take those men you think can hunt well, leave the young to be trained by the elders. Take women - if you have wives, take them along. Settle on those islands and report to us when you've killed them."
They knew what this meant. They were to have their own land - they might eventually have their own tribe! This would be the start of their glorious tales - stories would be told of these men and their brave wives for many many generations.

"Eew," Lady Tresh said, poking at the pile of flesh as it smoldered. "What was that?"
"That, my Lady," said one of her Slaves as he brushed the ash from his hands, "was a native. They've been quite bothersome on these little fringe lands for some years. I think we've driven them back to the mainland, where they can rot for all I care."
Tresh smugly grinned. She knew that this Slave was the best. He was sturdy and handsome and knew how to praise her decisions. And he was a good hunter, too, like that fellow with the long tail. Perhaps not quite as expert in leaping from tree to ground, or across those jagged gullies, but he was surefooted and brave, and he protected her from whatever threats came along.
"There's another one," Nenev hissed, pointing with his nose, "see it?"
"The one looking the other way," Slave Garvee whispered, "yes."
Nenev glanced at the Slave and gave off a smile. "I want to see you do that trick again. Go ahead."
Garvee hunkered down, while his Lady and the Master looked on, and aimed his hands at the native hunter.
What good would a wooden and stone spear do against raw fire? Pyrokinetic energy surged through the Slave's body and out his hands, through the foliage and blasted the back of the native full force.
Fire engulfed the short, hairy creature, immediately. It didn't have the good sense to drop to the ground and try putting itself out, not that it could have, since this kind of fire would burn until Garvee stopped it. At last, with a smelly greasy cloud in the air above the fire, the native creature died without much of a sound.
Tresh realized that this was more thrilling by half than merely hunting for some spotty deer or other. But she also didn't quite have the heart - or the money - to decide to come back next season and hunt more of these native things. She decided to stick with selling hides on the fashion market, and until that fashion trend wore thin, she'd be using Veva's Travel and Hunt Service to do it.

The women who had been proudly dragged across the wide sea into the tiny island outpost frantically paddled around, knowing that the tides were against them. If they kept up against that tide, they all knew they would make it to the mainland to tell their tales of misery.
All their men, and half their own number, had been slaughtered by these Rainbow People. Some of them had tails and were spirits of the woods - some were elemental gods indeed: they had proof in their burnt-alive remains which one wise young wife decided to take along. She'd seen her husband turn from a strong fierce hunter into a greasy smelly stain, in a matter of minutes. The anger she had carried over to her companions. If they reached the mainland, they'd be able to exact their own kind of revenge. On their chief and shaman, for having sent them to that doomed place.
Two boys had been born - and both had been left behind as tribute to the Rainbow People. Three girls came along, terrified, knowing that all the tales their mothers said were true. Big dark eyes surrounded by rings of blackish-brown hair told everything.
They paddled, furious.
When the first boat in the line, which they had wisely tied together with longer ropes to keep their flotilla from being overturned by a wave, raised up a cheer that they'd seen land, everyone doubled their paddling efforts. They had done this for five days straight, night and day, against the currents.
The tide finally assisted them in reaching the main land.
Unfortunately, they did not reach their own tribe's home.
A band of oddly painted men and boys greeted the women, with spearpoints turned at them. But the women were not to be deterred. The wisest among them brought out her ex-husband, dropping him on the sands.
The locals decided that she was either a mad woman, having burnt her mate to a crisp in tribute to join their tribe, or her wild tales (barely understood for dialects on Neres were many and varied) were to be believed.
The women were brought before their shaman and his chief, and allowed in to their tribe - where they were assured they would not be sent out on freakish missions to kill the gods from the sky. They lived contented for the rest of their relatively short brutish lives, prospering in a tribe where many women suffered from disease, and becoming the foundation of a generation of storytellers.

"Your father is responsible for a most annoying change in my lifestyle," complained Legashi. Yfe brushed his comments off the same way she would a comment about the color of the sky.
"That your lifestyle becomes more complicated is a small expense, Legashi," Yfe said as she pushed her hands over his leg muscles. "It benefits all Breeders to come."
"It benefits Membayar greatly," the Owner announced. "Now if I want to maintain my Stock, I'm going to have to go for another two terms of Breeder's courses!"
Mechanically, Yfe said, "I feel ever so bad for you. Having to retrain to get the benefit of your Status. Tsk." She felt for another sore muscle, and tackled it with both her fingertips and her subtle healing power.
Legashi sat up, turning over so he could see Yfe. "Yes! That's it! I mean, why should I have to do double studies if I'm already an Owner? It's my right to keep my stock!"
"Legashi, if you don't sit down and shut up I'm liable to start using some of my harsher powers on you, and you don't want that do you." She aimed a little bit of mental pressure on the arrogant Owner to lay back on the massage table and allow her to finish her job. She pushed a bit of her brown hair out of her vibrant two-tone green/yellow eyes, and continued when he'd gone back to his proper pose on the table.
"All I'm saying is -"
"All you're saying, Legashi, is that you're too lazy to go back and learn things that you ought to know how to do anyway. You claim to be an artist, well, then why aren't genes your canvas?"
"... Just because they're yours," Legashi muttered.
Yfe pushed his foot into the air and stretched his knee, "yes, they are mine. And look at me: I have gotten a healing degree as well as a Breeding one, just to prove that I'm able."
"Maybe you're more able than most people are, Yfe," Legashi groaned.
"Oh that's rubbish!" She said, and when she could feel his muscles tense up she did something that normally she could only do to machines: she stopped the electrical impulses. He relaxed completely and then suddenly bolted upright. Straight off the table, and onto the slightly chilled floor of the clinic room.
"What was that!? I didn't ask for any weird electric treatment! That was a shock - I felt it!" He stammered, panting.
Yfe glanced away, and sighed. "Legashi, it was just me trying to smooth out your muscles with a power I'd not used on you before. I apologize if it was uncomfortable, now I know better."
"Yes, you'd better be sorry. I'm not going to allow that again. You'll be lucky if I come back here or recommend your service again!"
"You're over reacting, Legashi, as usual." Yfe sighed again. The ambiance of the massage room had been ruined by this outburst. It wasn't as if she wanted her clients - friends or otherwise - to talk at her while she worked. In fact, most of her therapy customers, Slaves to High Holders, lay there and almost fell to sleep with her ministering hands soothing away their aches. Yfe didn't need to chat while she worked, it was best to have the concentration she needed. But some people needed to blather on and on about their troubles. She was not a hairstylist, after all, and few of her customers treated her as though she were. Except for some of the Owners. Blast them into the sea, they were the loudest-mouthed coarse people she'd ever met.
Now Slave Malla, she was a pleasant surprise to find in the waiting room after Legashi had stormed out. The young girl looked up at the tall Yfe and curtseyed.
"Your pardon Breeder Yfe," Malla said politely as she'd been trained, "but my Lady wishes to make an appointment. If you could come to her homestead to treat an injury she would be most obliged."
"Oh, Malla, you don't have to use such a formal tone with me," Yfe smiled at the child, whom she had helped birth only nine summers back. "What has she done this time?"
"She was lifting a big pot for the garden, and she wouldn't let me help." Malla said, looking down, but with a little grin. "I know I'm small but I can help!"
"And I bet she'd have been best off with it, too." Yfe looked around and noticed that there were no other current customers in the waiting room, and no one signed in for a massage until tomorrow.
She set the "be back at 'rise tomorrow" sign into the door of her clinic, and strode out into the late afternoon sun of the Zovora spring. Malla had brought the family carriage with her, actually of course, it had brought her. There was room for three in the cab, which suited the driver nicely.
"Afternoon," the other Slave said, tipping his cap at the Breeder.
"And a good afternoon it will be, when I have your Lady fixed up again, eh?"
The driver groaned, and shook his head as he snapped the reigns and started the Steed pulling. "Oh, if only she'd listen to reason, BreedMistress!"
"I've heard," Yfe laughed. She had pocketed a treat for Malla in her office, which she offered with a 'shh!' sound.
Malla gave a little grin, knowing that keeping anything sweet from her driver would be tempting disaster. He had a sweet tooth that could usually spot a treat a Unit away. But this time, the wind was in their favor, and Malla got the taffy all to herself.
At last, they reached Lady Hermine's mansion. The grounds were finely crafted and beautifully maintained: by none other than the Lady herself. Her servants, Bayaran and staff always wished she'd leave at least a little work to them, but she simply kept puttering about the landscape looking for this bush to prune or that dirt to water.
She was an elderly woman, and known to be remarkably kind to her Slaves. She wasn't all that good with Bayaran, since she rarely understood what they were really good for. 'Wasn't that what she had Slaves to do?' was her usual response. Yfe searched the grounds for signs that the Lady had gotten back out of her bed - which Malla had insisted she get into - and sure enough toward the back of the Mansion there she was, bent halfway over another pot and watering it with a large pitcher. She clutched her back, and made Yfe wince.
They strode up and Yfe gave the Owner woman a glare to end all glares. Of course it had no effect upon the woman. She went right on looking for another bush or flower pot to water.
"Now I know, you're going to tell me that I ought not to be out here," she grunted as she stood straight and walked another couple steps, bent again and groaned again, "but the best medicine is work, that's what I always say."
"You sound like an old 'holder," Yfe said. "Now stand up straight and let me check that back injury. Malla told me you lifted a large," Malla pointed to the half-tilted pot which was half again the size of Malla herself, "- oh - yes, there it is. Now, look, Hermine, you've got to let your servants take some of this work off your hands. Your back is twisted even worse than the last time you did this to it."
"And I'm sure that's what you'll say next time," she sighed. Even while Yfe was working, tracing the lines of stress on nerves through the woman's spine and up her back, Hermine was busy glancing with her still-sharp eyes at her garden. She very nearly started walking off to clip a spare leaf - but Malla stopped her. Instead, the girl picked up the pruning cutters and looked for instruction in her Lady's face.
"That one, the branch which is dangling so ungracefully down from its companions." Hermine said, feeling suddenly better when Yfe had found the right spot to apply her powers, "just clip it off right at the base, where it joins the larger branch."
Yfe could almost feel the apprehension in the older Owner's mind as Malla reached up with the big clippers. She found the right branch, looked at it for what seemed an eternity, and then clipped the offending leaves. They fell to the ground and Malla picked them up, to put them with the other discarded leaves and flowers that her Lady would gather.
By the time the young girl got back to the pair, Yfe had finished her work and was applying a pressure to the Lady's lower back to push it into shape. Hermine said to the young girl, "it's a start," and Malla grinned ear to ear.

"I don't know what I'm going to do!" Malla moaned, "she's not getting up, she's just laying there... She's quite pale," she said, and Yfe could detect the seriousness in Malla's voice. She stood and excused herself from the clinic's main room, pushing past three regular appointments who looked on in a bit of shock. A real emergency? Here in Zovora?
Malla drove the carriage, it was years since she'd learned how and given the older Slave a break - he was now busy tending the Steeds. But now, Malla drove her healer into the Mansion and directly to the end of the ramps where the road let out. She grasped Yfe's hand, "she's back in the sheds, oh hurry..."
By the time they got there, Yfe knew that there was nothing her rather limited powers could do to save the old Owner. Hermine lay next to the tools near the shed, her gardening gloves on and her straw hat propped over her face for comfort. She stirred, when she heard Malla's worried voice.
"Now now... I'm not dead just yet," Hermine said. She tried to lift her hand to move her hat, but it wouldn't respond. She muttered something about that being rather an inconvenience, but then found the hat had been lifted by Malla and she was being shaded properly by other people peering down at her.
"Hermine, you're... injured. Badly. But it's an old injury and I can't..." Yfe said, trying to find the right words. "I don't know if we should move you."
"I'll die in my garden, that would be a pleasure," Hermine said, though the others gasped, her weak voice was full of humor. Limp, her other hand dropped the shears she held, and beckoned Malla near her face. "Malla, you're doing so well in the garden. I want it to be yours when it's time. I hereby free you - you should live in the mansion free of expenses until you find your way in the world. Let no one tell you different. Yfe? You have witnessed."
Yfe and Malla blinked at one another, both perhaps as surprised as they could be. Malla bent close to her Lady, and whispered in her ear something quite personal and loving. Hermine smiled, and sighed.
"I suppose that this makes payment on that last therapy visit a little sticky," Hermine sighed, and did not breathe in another breath.
Yfe was stunned. Just like that, the woman expired. The Breeder glanced back at Malla who was crying - but it was a mix of sweet and sorrow. The estate would have to be sold, most likely the Slaves would continue to serve whoever bought it. Malla wondered frantically what she'd do with herself.
"I ... I've never known anything but this! I'm only good at -" She sputtered and Yfe put her arm over the new Worker's shoulders.
"Malla, you've done nothing but look over a well crafted garden and kept it up for your Lady. Plus I've heard that you're very good with children, is that true?"
She bit her lip and said, "I... I suppose it is, there were two births recently and everyone said the children were calm near me. I ..."
"Then I would be honored if you'd help me take care of the children in the clinic, while the parents are getting their therapy. And in the mean time, I expect you'll be wanting to make arrangements with whomever buys the estate, to keep these grounds up, hum?"
Malla and Yfe looked over the huge estate's pathways of colorful flowers and shrubbery, the tall trees breaking up the flat landscape, the white and grey stones mirroring the snow-capped black mountains in the distance.
"I guess you're right. I'll... Need a bit of a rest from this, and I've got to call on the estate lawyers. I know their number, she told me not long ago."
"Then she knew this was bound to happen." Yfe stood and brushed the dirt from her knees, and said, "where do you think she'd best like to be buried, Malla? Near the center, or off to the side to look at her beautiful garden?"

Malla was quite happy when her part-time employer asked her to assist in a rather special birth. Yfe's own child was meant to be coming into the world soon enough. Though Malla didn't know the father at all, in fact Yfe didn't even seem much interested in there being a father on hand, the forty-five year old Worker felt that this was a momentous occasion.
Yfe had another Breeder on hand, though there weren't many in Zovora really. The place was still fairly small but growing, Malla knew that much because her gardening work was beginning to take in enough money that she'd be able to afford not only a business storefront, but a plot of land for herself soon!
Yfe, tall and slender, had turned onto her side, and the other Breeder insisted that she stand again.
"Veryo, I will not stand I will lay here quite certainly until I explode. Malla? Never bear children. NNNNNnng!" Yfe yelled, inadvertently. Malla didn't take her threat seriously of course. Malla wanted desperately to join the ranks of those with a file on hand at Yfe's clinic.
The Second Degree Breeder Veryo sighed, and put his hands on his patient's shoulders, turning her gently about. "Malla, would you please be so kind as to turn her feet toward the ground again?"
"I - Will - Not - Stand - UP!" Yfe said, but she was powerless with the bulk of a child come full term in her abdomen. It kicked, or moved, or perhaps her labor had started, and she helped the Breeder and Worker by sitting up and grasping her belly. "Nnnaar!"
Malla stepped up and gently tried to put her hand on Yfe's belly, and was surprised when the baby moved of its own accord, almost seeming...
"It wants to be near you," Yfe said through gritted teeth. "Now Malla dear why not stand below me and demand it come out hmn?"
"BreedMistress Yfe, you say the silliest things..." Malla said, but Breed Lord Veryo shook his head.
"No, child, I think she's serious. You do have a way with children, this one is no exception. If you had the training, I'd say you ought to become a Breeder yourself."
"Talk - later!" Yfe insisted, "I'm going to have to push now!"
The others didn't stop her, as she sat at the edge of the curved-bowl bed. The chair was suited for birthing, with a wide area to allow legs to move, and enough of a scoop that it wouldn't dump its user onto the floor, yet offer gravity as an invisible assistant.
It took rather longer than they expected to then push out a strongly colored boy child. Yfe slept soundly, exhausted, while Veryo made sure there was no internal bleeding, and kept the babe warm. Malla took the boy from the Breeder and cooed at him, getting a pleased gurgling back in response.
"He's so sweet," Malla said.
"Have you been tested, Malla?" Asked Veryo, "you would make such a good mother."
Malla nodded, "I might have a little egg waiting, some day, but I ... I haven't even found a proper father for her yet."
The Breed Lord warned gently, "Don't wait too long, Malla."
Malla knew that yes, Slaves didn't live as long as most people, usually, and she'd been born to two Slaves. Her lifestyle might offer her a little edge, since she didn't have to work if she was ill or tired - not that her dear Lady would have made any of her Slaves work under those conditions.
She bounced the baby a little, and when she saw that Yfe was awake again, she said to the child, "would you like to go back to mamma? Of course you would."
Malla gently handed the boy back to Yfe, who had abruptly forgotten how painful the birth had been, and with a huge grin said, "Dyfed, that's his name."
He had bright almost lime green skin, and darker blue-green hair that fell in a downy way over his head. His ears were slightly pointed, much smaller than his mother's were, but indicating that he possibly would have some connection to the same electric powers she did. His eyes, briefly open but now closed in contented suckling, were a brilliant sapphire color.
Malla privately made notes: how many blue-haired possibly green-skinned men with D's in their names did she recall having seen? She decided it was hopeless to try and figure out who the father might be, since Yfe was known to travel a bit now and again to her Breeding conventions and just to get away.
"Malla?" Yfe said, "if your gardening business can rest for a bit, I would love to have you on as a nursemaid." She turned to Veryo and tilted her head, "I realize that most are Healers or First Degree but she's ..."
"She is special with children, and anyone who has met her knows it. I can't argue with your choice, Yfe. As I said, if she'd the education she'd make a perfect First Degree anyway."
"Such flattery," Malla sighed. "I'll take you up on it. But when ... When we're done I would so love to open my own store. Do you think that your payment could help me?"
"I know just the place in town," Yfe grinned.

Dyfed sat near his fireplace and listened to the music playing. A superb recording, made many years back in the H'lan Valley. The birds, he thought, would be great to have in a homestead - but they were wild and he never wanted to remove a wild animal from its setting. That would be a cruelty he couldn't bear.
Always a soft hearted individual, Dyfed watched the snow outside falling, while the songs of tropical marshlands filled his den.
Though Dyfed was raised almost exclusively by his mother and her friends, he took mostly after his father. He knew that: his powers were geared toward the skies and land, rather than to people or artificial things.
Apparently, way back in his mother's side of the family, there had been a weathershaper or two. His mother's power of electric control extended into the weather spectrum far easier than the mechanical side, and his interests lay so far away from her own Breeding.
Dyfed loved maps, enjoyed looking at them for hours. There was one huge map on his den's wall, the world as seen from above when the Colonists had arrived. He wanted to make changes to it: there had been an earthquake two decades before his birth that opened a chasm and exposed a river to the surface, in Polaen. The long river that snaked through Curra already swelled up, and made for an exceptionally good trade route.
He wanted to see it for himself. Having grown up on Zerin and remaining there most of his current forty years, Dyfed was aching for something else. Something to call his own. He'd passed the Membayar exams with the typical ease his mother's family did, but he would hope for more Land to hold. Perhaps he'd... Go out exploring?
The Master leaned back in his chair, sinking deeply into thought as well as the plump cushions. Dare he think that he, having led a comfortable and protected life so far, would be able to go out and forage about? Plop down a foundation for a Homestead in some far-off Area? So far, his maps were merely a hobby, since his job relied upon the dealings of higher Status and stock trades. He was quite good with numbers, as an accountant for Auction houses and personal management he was on a par with the best historically. But... His true love was more fanciful than numbers on a screen or written in boxes. Perhaps his true love was more colorful than the people he worked with, the land that called to his hands might be it...
Trilling Tether birds woke him - the recording had started over, and the bright sounds of their mating calls lured him out of his warm comfortable seat.
Outside, the snow continued to fall. But he knew that on the Land of Tana, there was a beautiful valley where precious few Zekirans had stepped foot. Where only one man, Master Tankhle, had braved conditions unknown to plop down his recording unit and gather these wonderful sounds for all to hear.
If he did go somewhere uninhabited, Dyfed knew his powers would be getting a work out. Perhaps it would be best to practice before leaving for some unknown destination. Exploration was not in vogue at the moment - he could hardly expect to find good outfitters that could estimate his needs.
He wanted to speak to the composer, Master Tankhle, to find out how he got where he did, to record this beautiful music.
The snow blanketed the land outside, in the morning. After a good night's rest, Master Dyfed took stock. He did still want to find a place in H'lan, or perhaps just start wandering. But the desire to meet or at least contact the composer was stronger at the moment, so he sat down and searched through the world communication network.
The Master was located within a few minutes! Dyfed sighed when he realized that his contact number was merely the recording studio's, but it was a start.
He placed the call to the studio, which was on Tana - that was a bonus, since that was where he'd have to go eventually. Leaving a message, chiding himself for not automatically remembering that Tana would be waking up several hours after his call.
That left him to pace about his den and home for ... what, five hours? Six? Oh the maddening curse of inspiration! He wanted to find out what he'd be needing right now of course. But, perhaps... He ought to settle with his practice for the day.
Now... How to start? He had been tested and found for certain working powers. Since he hadn't made his living using them, they were all but untrained. His mother insisted the amount of telepathy she'd passed on to him be trained and kept working - all her relatives would simply die if they knew a son of hers had allowed his ability to lapse.
He didn't know of anyone to ask for training assistance. There must be someone. Again he cast his eyes toward his communication room and did a search. Tapping his green fingers against his chin, Dyfed wondered. What to look for exactly? Mutations? He checked, and there were some, but he realized that his was not a mutation so much as an ability. He checked the Breeder's pages, and promptly found what he was looking for.
A boldfaced advertisement: High Master Jark's Environmental Training. Could it really be this easy?
Of course not. The office was all the way across Zerin, in the high Stetil mountains. The Zovora ridges were tall to him, but he'd flown over the huge white capped frozen Stetil peaks. They were quite... Impressive. He knew that H'lan was a deep valley between sharply cut mountains. Perhaps swamp training, then? No. No. It would be silly to stop and switch now.
It was a good thing he'd decided to do this during the resting days. He checked the weather reports for Stetil, and found that even though it was in fact snowing, it wasn't snowing so hard that a transport couldn't be found. Because he was a good Membayar at heart, he made appointments for both the Training agency, and the transportation. Then he arranged for one or two of his Bayaran to keep his own appointments.
One brilliant thing he always did, as a Membayar, was to take on Bonds only when their skills could be useful in lieu of his own. It meant he could take time away from the office and trust it to people who knew what they were doing, as well as keep the Bayaran involved in their own well being. If they completed a task with flair and a show of ability, they would be properly - financially - rewarded. If they performed adequately, no reward of course. Dyfed didn't Bond or hire people who couldn't perform at least adequately.
Now his task was to gear himself up for this training. What would it take? Patience, and... he couldn't even guess.