The stern rap of Sheila's opening gavel muted but did not extinguish the murmuring voices of dozens of private conversations.
 
The posture of the Colony's leader appeared poised and relaxed as she held the gavel in the ready position with her elbow bent at a forty-five degree angle for several long seconds as she waited for silence. Beneath Sheila's placid surface I spotted a ripple of anxiety as she unconsciously polished the gavel's wood handle with her thumb.
 
I've called enough meetings to order over my lifetime; the job of moderating a meeting was as thankless as it was important. Folks who don't know better think the chair is the ruler of the meeting. Not true. In a democratic assembly, the meeting members rule the gathering under the guidance of leadership and the organization's bylaws.
 
The meeting's power resided in its decisions and not in its deliberations. The chairperson's job is to help guide the gathering toward a consensus, or at least a majority vote to empower a course of action.
 
Over the next several seconds, all eyes turned toward Sheila as pools of conversation evaporated into silence and the assembly hall became as hushed as a sanctuary's congregation gathered in prayer.
 
I had to respect Sheila's skill as a parliamentarian. She relied far less on the weight of her gavel as she did on the authority of her personality to bring the meeting to order. At the moment of maximum silence, with a flourish she dropped the hammer and slammed the gavel down on the sounding block. The resounding crack of wood on wood echoed throughout the hall.
 
"This meeting of the Society of Sisters is now in session." Sheila looked around the room, smiled, cleared her throat and spoke the ritual words used to open every formal gathering of the sisters. "All those wishing to be heard, rise and be recognized so that we may better know your mind. The purpose of today's meeting is twofold." She paused and turned to face Alice.
 
"First, as a Board of Inquiry, we will examine the circumstances involving the loss and recovery of Hunter-One." Sheila pushed her chair back as she rose to her feet, leaned forward with her hands braced on the edge of the table,
 
"The second agenda item is more, err, delicate. Against our will, we have a man living with us. What are we going to do with him?” Sheila scanned the faces of the assembled sisters. This isn't a rhetorical question. We've got a problem, and he's sitting right there," Sheila turned and pointed her finger at me.
 
"What are we going to do about this man?" Sheila asked as the rising chatter of the sisters became a din of noise as the implications of her question became apparent. Great! She had just dumped the question of my future into the collective laps of the Sisterhood.
 
Sheila looked into my face, and we made eye contact. To compensate for my hearing loss, I had become fairly proficient at lip reading. I was certain she mouthed the words, "Don't you worry," as she looked at me. Either that or she had just whispered, "You're fucked."
 
"This tribunal will render its decision on Mr. Richard's future status after we have concluded the Board of Inquiry. As always, Rita's Rules of Order will govern the conduct of our meeting. We have a sacred covenant to respect each other and keep each other safe. We are our sister's keepers. Are there any questions before we proceed?"
 
I licked my dry lips as the circular muscles of my sphincter clamped shut while my testicles crawled into my body and my bladder shrunk two sizes. A "Oh shit!" feeling came over me, and I suddenly needed a bathroom break. My future had become the prize in a high stakes chess game with unknown pieces and uncertain rules.
 
I pushed my chair back, climbed to my feet, and faced Sheila and asked, "Excuse me. May I ask a question?"
 
My sudden movement took Sheila by surprise. She took a half-step backward. "Of course, what do you want to know?"
 
I glanced around at the roomful of fully dressed women and turned to Sheila, "Can I use the restroom before we get started?"
 
The rising tide of tension crested and broke as waves of laughter washed over the room.
 
"We'll take a short recess to allow Mr. Richards to attend to his needs. While I escort him to the toilet, we will stand in recess," Sheila declared as she tapped the gavel. "We'll reconvene in five minutes."
 
As Sheila led me out of the MultiMedia center, the woman with the rust red hair appeared at our side.
 
"Just a friendly escort," she laughed and raced to catch up with us. From the bulge on her hip, it was my guess our new friend was carrying a weapon.
 
Sheila glanced at our new companion and looked at me, a fleeting grimace crossed her face. I didn't want to read too much into a glance, but I had the feeling she didn't want company.
 
"Wait here and keep an eye on things," Sheila said to our chaperone as she led me to a restroom a few doors down the corridor.
 
"Be quick and listen," Sheila hissed as she pushed me through the doorway. "No time to talk. Stay calm, stay cool. Just be yourself. Everything will be fine. Trust me."
 
Sheila's "Trust me," remark did little to ease my growing sense of anxiety, and her suggestion to be myself made me laugh. I had long since given up trying to figure out who I was. Instead, I decided to be normal by ignoring nine out of the ten voices in my head.
 
"Need any help in there?" our escort asked as she stuck her head through the doorway and looked around.
 
"No. I'm good," I answered as I started to fiddle with the zipper on my pants.
 
The woman with rust red hair walked over to me. "I'll wait here, hustle it up," she said as she leaned against the frame of the open stall.
 
I turned my back to her, unzipped, and started to piss.
 
"Since we're getting to know each other, please tell me your name so I can call you something else besides, 'Hey You,'" I said over my shoulder.
 
"Sure, everyone calls me Rusty."
 
Rusty escorted Sheila and me back to the meeting room, and if she had followed me any closer, we could have shared the same underwear. I checked my watch and let out a low whistle of appreciation; the leader's sense of time was stopwatch perfect. She beat her five minute deadline with fifteen seconds to spare.
 
We took our seats at the table, and as Sheila reached for her gavel, one of the women from the kitchen crew hurried forward and, using her hand as a shield, whispered something in Sheila's ear. Sheila nodded a couple of times before saying, "Okay, good. Thank you," as banged down the gavel.
 
"Recess is over, and we are back in session, sort of. We'll pause for another five minutes for a coffee and beverage break so graciously provided by Marjorie with the help of StarShine and Darlene. Thank you, sisters."
 
Sheila stood and placed her hands on Alice's and my shoulders. "Both of you need to grab something. This is going to be a long haul."
 
We watched as she followed her own advice and joined a small group of sisters milling around the coffee cart parked by the room's entrance. I had to smile; she’d tried to wait her turn but wherever she stood became the front of the line. Rank has its privileges.
 
Seraina’s hand squeezed mine as we approached the gathering of thirsty sisters. I returned her grip with a squeeze of my own. She gave me a half-smile as I whispered, "Don't worry."
 
"Coffee, tea, or me?" Darlene said with a naughty wink and a giggle as she handed me a steaming cup of coffee prepared just the way I liked it. Cream with more sugar than seemed reasonable. What I didn't drink, I poured on my pancakes in the morning.
 
A couple of women waiting their turn watched our public display of affection with a look of annoyed curiosity. One of them pointed at us and whispered something to her partner, and they laughed as they walked away. I couldn't tell if they were laughing with us or at us. For all I knew, they could have been laughing at the price of sheep shit in Seattle.
 
"This is for you, Mom." StarShine gave Alice a kiss as she handed her a fresh cup of Java. 
 
I also noticed StarShine and Darlene were striking up a considerable amount of conversation with their coffee customers. I knew Darlene well enough to appreciate her marketing skills. I had a hunch they were lobbying on our behalf with the apparent support or at least acquiesce of the Society's leader.
 
The coffee-wagon opening gambit must have been Darlene's brainchild. It was the oldest political trick in the book: give something free to the voters before they vote, and maybe they'll think well of you when they fill out the ballot. Folks are reluctant to bite the hand that feeds them.
 
I felt a tugging at my sleeve and turned around.
 
"Time to get started everyone, coffee break is over," Sheila instructed as she guided us back to our seats.
 
As the three of us took our places, Sheila tapped her gavel, checked her notes, and leaned into the microphone. "We'll start the Hearing of Inquiry at the end and work our way back to the beginning. The images we are about to view will put the subsequent testimony into context." Sheila swiveled in her chair as the huge ultra high-definition television screen came to life with a vivid crystal clear view of a snow-covered mountain slope as the drone skimmed over the trees and followed the contours of the land.
 
Suddenly the forested slope gave way to a dizzying view of the valley below as the drone cleared the crest of the ridge. The images were clear and sharp enough they produced a stomach-dropping sense of vertigo as drone soared into the open air space above the snow-covered valley.
 
At the upper left corner of the frame, a smudge of dark smoke drifted across the blue sky. The drone's camera searched left for the source of the smoke and centered on an island of blazing evergreens in an ocean of white and two tiny figures trudging away from the inferno through the snow.

Chapter 25

As the drone's camera pointed straight down, Alice and I stared straight up, whooping for joy, our mouths as wide open as baby sparrows awaiting a fresh worm. Our hungry-bird-faces filled the screen as Sheila reviewed her notes while she paused the video.

"Oomph!" I let out an involuntary snort of laughter; we looked fucking ridiculous. Alice tried to stifle giggles. The audience got the joke. Titters and chuckles filled the hall.

Sheila had a puzzled expression on her face as she looked up from her notes and glanced around for the source of sudden amusement. I pointed to the television screen over her head, and she turned, glanced up and burst into laughter.

"Sorry," she chuckled as she pointed her controller at the screen and advanced the video several seconds to a modestly more flattering and less humiliating image of Alice and me.

Like a school kid trying to get the teacher's attention I raised my hand and waved it to and fro.

"Yes, Mr. Richards, your question?" she nodded.

I had permission to speak. "Those pictures are amazing, err, no, not those," I said as I waved at the hungry sparrow image on the screen. "The other ones. We were what? Fifteen-miles out? I didn't think a drone had the necessary range for extended operation in the mountains."

"Normally they don't. Too much interference for FM line of sight communications and we don't want to rely on satellite communications. When the shit hits the fan, they'll be useless. They'll either get knocked out, or the government will shut 'em down. We solved the problem by running our drones in pairs. One does a ground level contour search while the twin ghosts along at high altitude and acts as a radio relay."

I let out a low whistle. The drone operation was much more sophisticated than it appeared at first glance. There was some serious brain power at work.

"Actually, it's fortunate we spotted you when we did. It was the last mission. We had no trace, no visual, radio, or thermal signature. You had vanished," Sheila said as she clicked the video to life.

A ground-level view taken by the rescue party replaced the aerial images from the drone as the rescue party's camera followed the snow-trail to the entrance of our mine shaft. The camera paid special attention to downed saplings and the resulting snow shield.

"Alice, quite ingenious. What made you think of it?" Sheila inquired.

"Not my idea. It was his," Alice nodded at me.

"Oh," Sheila said as she changed to a view of our makeshift tent and the heaps of sleeping rattlesnakes slumbering against the back wall of the cavern.

"All things considered, Hunter-One did an excellent job surviving the storm," Sheila said as the last images of our mineshaft survival camp played out on the huge screen.

"We've seen how this escapade ended. Now we need to know how it all began. What went wrong? What prevented your return to base?" Sheila put her hands on her hips and waited.

I shook off the sensation I was a kid about to give some lame-ass excuse to my mother for missing curfew. They always say discretion is the better part of valor. I sat in silence, leaned forward, wiped my palms on my thighs, and returned Sheila's gaze.

Group questions are a form of verbal volleyball. Not in a good position to answer, I let my partner do the honors.

"I knew there was a storm on the way, but I miscalculated its arrival." Alice passed to me.

"We decided to shelter in place and ride out the blizzard when we found the mine shaft." I bumped the question back to Alice.

"Thank goodness we got the revised weather advisory," Alice answered the volley.

"Then you also received the recall order I issued," the society's leader spiked the ball into the ground at Alice's feet.

Bad move. Never put new information in circulation until all the questions have been asked.

"So? You're responsible?" Sheila's expression hardened as she took a step forward and glowered at Alice.

Sheila's expression reminded me of the Death Star sequence from the movie Star Wars. She had acquired Alice as a target. The next shot would be lethal.

"Don't blame everything on Alice. I also got your message and said nothing. What's my responsibility for not following your directive," I reached over and gave Alice's hand a squeeze. We were in this together.

The Death Star held its fire as Sheila turned to the sisterhood and asked, "Does anyone have a question?"

"Alice! Did he force you to have sex?" a voice shouted from the rear of the hall. I scanned the hall for the owner. Nobody there.

"Yah! I heard he assaulted you and your daughter in the shower," shouted one of the women from the coffee-line, apparently in support of her partner's sex question

My pulse quickened as the hair on the nape of my neck and arms bristled. A nasty rumble of anger filled the hall. The incendiary question was a lighted match drooping into a pool of gasoline.

"Belinda, that's a fucking lie and you God damned well know it!" Alice screamed as she pounded the table with her fist.

"Nothing like that happened! Why are you telling lies?" StarShine pleaded as she rose to her feet, turned around, and faced Belinda.

"Order!" Sheila stood behind the table and slammed the gavel down with an echoing crash. "Enough! Do not to speak unless recognized. Is. That. Understood?" She virtually spit out the last three words, each a complete sentence accented by fury. Pausing to take a deep breath, Sheila continued as her tone softened. "Please direct all questions to the chair."

The leader surveyed the assembly as she made eye contact with every person in the hall. Satisfied her statement had been understood, she slowly lowered herself into her chair.

"Mr. Richards, would you care to respond to Belinda's charge?" Sheila faced me and nodded her permission to speak.

"I never force myself on anyone. I don't attend parties if I'm not invited." I folded my hands in front of me and took a deep breath as a bead of perspiration trickled down my back. I searched for the quiet center. Carry on and stay calm.

Darlene's arm shot into the air and waved as she jumped to her feet, and demanded to be recognized.

"Speak your mind," Sheila waved her hand in recognition.

"Thank you. I have two questions. The first is for Alice." Darlene hesitated and looked Alice in the eye. "Alice, through the Chair, you were naked and sleeping with him for a week. Did the two of you ever have sex?" Darlene waited for the answer, her hands clasped before her like a shy schoolgirl.

Darlene deliberately scripted her body language to appear as a spontaneous display of innocence.

"Your answer?" Sheila turned to Alice.

Silence filled the hall as members leaned forward with interested voyeurism. Intimate details are always crowd pleasers.

"Yes. We had sex. The consent was mutual. We enjoyed each other's company," Alice touched the back of my hand.

"Thank you. I have one more question," Darlene stopped and waited for the chair's permission to proceed.

"And your question is?" Sheila gestured for her to continue.

"This question is for you, Sheila. I understand you shared your bed with Dennis. What happened?"

The leader's eyes widened in surprise and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Darlene's blunt question put the hearing's officer into an impossible position. If I had been in her shoes, I'm not sure how I would proceed. You can't adjudicate a hearing while also presenting new evidence and testifying as a witness.

"Due to potential conflicts of interest, I respectfully decline to answer. Please direct any questions concerning that night to Mr. Richards," Sheila pointed toward me.

"Thank you. Dennis, err, Mr. Richards, did you spend the night in Sheila's bed? Please answer yes or no unless asked for elaboration," Alice instructed.

"Yes. We spent the night together," I cleared my throat as I fingered my wristwatch. Where was she going with this line of questioning?

"And both of you were naked?" Darlene pressed for details.

"Yes," I shifted and glanced around the hall.

"Did you try to seduce Sheila?"

"No," I said.

"Did Sheila try to seduce you?"

This was dangerous territory. I didn't want to throw Sheila under the bus, but at the same time, I didn't want to get caught in a lie. Silence wasn't an option.

"I'm not sure seduction is the right question. She invited me to her room, and I accepted," I decided to tell the carefully varnished truth, and I cautiously chose my words.

"Did you attempt intercourse with Ms. Carson?" Darlene's shift to proper surnames sounded like she had been watching too many Perry Mason reruns.

"Yes." The less said, the better.

"And?" Darlene pantomimed opening an imaginary door in the air, and with a half bow she waved her arm with a flourish and invited me to enter. Her tight lips held back a smile. The sparkling eyes of a predator told me she was up to something.

I took a sip of coffee, licked my lips and glanced at Sheila and Alice before turning to face Darlene and the Society of Sisters.

"I think Sheila was trying to consummate my arrival at Liberty Mountain. Sex is her way of getting to know and trust people." I could see heads nodding as members recalled personal experiences of getting to know Sheila in the biblical sense.

"She did an excellent job of getting me aroused. When I attempted to return the favor, she tensed up." I shook my head and took another sip of tepid coffee. "I asked permission to proceed, and she declined. I stopped, and nothing more happened. We fell asleep in each other's arms."

"Is Mr. Richards' statement accurate?"

Sheila nodded in the affirmative.

"I submit the testimony and statements given by Alice, her daughter StarShine, and our leader are proof that Dennis is not the sexual predator he was alleged to be," Darlene pronounced as she frowned at the two women from the coffee line.

The younger woman responded with a half smile and shrug of her shoulders while her older partner glared at me like an industrial laser. If looks could kill, I would've been a smoldering ash heap.

Darlene's next words became submerged in a rising tide of conversation as the membership began to digest the implications of her statement. Every now and then I caught a sister glance in my direction as she talked to her companion. Several of the glances ended in smiles ranging from bold to shy.

I was surprised at the silence of the moderator's gavel. And was amazed she let the chatter run its course for several minutes. At the crest of discussion, she restored an easy silence with a few knuckle raps on the table. The subtle use of the human touch made the call to order more personal and less authoritarian. I smiled in spite of myself. She was likely a far better poker player than I thought.

"Thank you, Darlene, for the compelling testimony. Does any member of the Society wish to dispute the evidence of Mr. Richard's innocence?"

Crickets.

“The floor is now open to general questions. Those wishing to ask Alice or Dennis questions relating to their survival experience, rise and be recognized."

For the longest time, the invitation went unanswered. Then the woman sitting next to StarShine stood and Alice asked, "What was it like being with a man, I mean Dennis, around the clock for seven days? You two couldn't even take a shit in private? I would go crazy even if he was my brother."

One of the members brought the house down with the cat-call, "I would go crazy if it was my brother."

"Alice, you go first. Then I will ask Mr. Richards to respond." Sheila tilted back in her chair and motioned Alice to answer.

I shifted forward and rested my hand on my knee to keep it from shaking as the fear induced adrenaline-high from fear of a run-away lynch mob society abated. That was too flipping close for comfort.

"I would have gone crazy if not for Dennis. I hate snakes. I was scared to death," Alice said with a shiver as she fought to keep her composure. Phobias are not logical creatures, and mind fear can paralyze even an Olympic strongman. Or woman.

I thought Darlene wore the crown when it came to the over-sharing of personal information. Darlene's prize crumbled as Alice embarked on an explicitly detailed account of every moment we were together. Her account of lovemaking cut short by premature ejaculation left me blushing and fidgeting in my chair. I was getting sliced and diced like a laboratory rat.

My status was almost redeemed when Alice pronounced me to be an excellent lover despite my deficiencies. I licked my lips and suppressed the temptation to smile. The mood of the assembly was shifting away from hostile toward almost friendly, or at least friendly curiosity.

My turn to answer came after nearly forty-five minutes of testimony when Sheila thanked Alice for sharing as she turned to me and said, "And what was it like to spend so much time with Alice? What kept you from going crazy?"

"As far as our time together? It was a frustrating, aggravating, annoying, and wonderful roller coaster ride. We survived because we worked together and we needed each other. I kept in mind that as annoying as all this was to me, it had to be just as bad for Alice. We were stuck with each other for better or worse, so we made the best of it." I shrugged and touched her hand with mine.

"We had a choice. We could be friends pretending to be lovers or lovers pretending to be friends. We decided to be friends." I settled back in my chair as I finished speaking. I had no more to say.

For the next hour, the line of inquiry from the membership meandered like a lazy river all over the map. Did we get bored with nothing to do? Sometimes, but mostly we were too busy being scared to be bored. Did we ever lose hope of rescue? Yes and yes. How did we spend our time? Sleeping, talking, napping, fooling around, being depressed, cheering each other up, screwing, and sleeping.

Gradually the sisters narrowed their questions and began to focus on my future status; Alice's daughter finally addressed the elephant in the room.

"Dennis, do you want to join the sisterhood as a permanent member of the society?"

 To be continued