“It’s a big world,” Mike said, gently, sitting down next to her and taking the window seat. “I take it you didn’t do a lot of traveling in the harem?”
“No,” Anastasia said. “Or before. I grew up on a farm in Russia. A scout for Otryad saw me at a fair and arranged the marriage with my parents. I went from the farm to the household and have been there ever since.”
“May I ask how old you are?” Mike said, carefully.
“Twenty-six,” Anastasia said, closing her eyes. “I have been from the farm to the house and occasionally to Samarkand. I was a girl in the harem until I was seventeen. Then I was brought into training to be a manager. I took over as assistant manager at nineteen and full manager at twenty-one. I have managed his harem ever since.”
“And never been in a plane,” Mike said, a touch angrily. “Has Otryad ever traveled?”
“Yes,” Anastasia said. “But it wouldn’t be… right to take his women with him. It would be unseemly.”
“Not to me,” Mike said. “If I have to travel, you can figure on coming with me. Unless you really don’t want to.”
“Oh, I would like to,” the girl said, breathing out finally. “I have wanted to see the world. But I’m afraid of it as well. I have been… inside for so long. Not only in a house, but like being trapped in a cage. Like the tiger in too small a cage, I pace and pace, but if the door is open, I’m afraid to walk out.”
“Well, the door in my house is always open,” Mike said. “I’m hiring you, not buying you. You’re free to go any time. You’re a full adult and have some training in people management if nothing else.” He saw her fearful expression and sighed in exasperation. “That’s not kicking you out, damnit. I’m just saying you’re free to be whoever you want to be. If you don’t like working for me, I’ll find you another job. The door to my harem is always open. For one thing, I don’t think of the girls as just mine. I have people who work with me, friends who visit, and if the girls want to mess with them, they can feel free. For that matter, four of the girls currently in the house are rented hookers. They are, very specifically, for the comfort and support of the trainers that who quarters in the house. The rest of the girls… I’m not so sure.”
“If you would take my advice,” Anastasia said, diffidently, “they should not be given to other men. Girls of the hareem are not whores. There is a great deal of difference, in the head if nothing else. They may be gifted to subordinates as wives, especially as they age. This is traditional in Uzbek society at least. But they should not be passed around like… sweetmeats at a party.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Mike said, grinning. “And, yes, that’s exactly what I wanted you for. How much are you supposed to get paid, by the way?”
“I had a small stipend from Otryad,” Anastasia said, shrugging. “To buy clothes and jewelry. And he would give me gifts.”
“That’s it?” Mike asked, shaking his head. “Well, that won’t work for me. The girls get that. I’ll figure out a salary. He said something about education. You can read and write, right?”
“Yes,” the girl replied. “And do mathematics. I can read and write in Russian, Uzbek, Arabic, German and English. For that matter,” she continued in not badly accented English, “I can speak all of them as well.”
“And he kept you locked up in a harem,” Mike said, shaking his head. “What a fucking waste. Pardon my language.”
“The master need never apologize,” Anastasia continued in English. “In fact, it is a sign of weakness that the girls will exploit.”
“Hmm…” Mike said, thinking about that one. “I think we might have some differences in approach and we’ll have to see how it works. For one thing, this harem will not be entrapped except by situation. And I’m not going to be married to any of them, or you for that matter. On the other hand… Western militaries handle their soldiers differently from most of the militaries in your area; had you noticed that?”
“Not really,” Anastasia said, frowning. “I do not associate with soldiers.”
“You’re going to be associating with a bunch of them as early as tomorrow,” Mike pointed out. “But in developing nations, the troops are treated like dirt and the officers don’t even think about talking to them as equals. In American militaries officers, good officers, treat their subordinates like humans that have their job to do. Officers have the job of making or expanding decisions for their unit and they give the troops their orders. The troops have the job of expanding on those orders to the limit of their position and ability but they don’t see the officer as God or something. They treat him with respect and the good ones with admiration. But they don’t hesitate to bring up alternatives if asked and if an officer has screwed up, he’ll admit it and work on ways to change that.”
“And this is how you would treat the girls in your hareem?” Anastasia asked, frowning. “I’m not sure how they will respond to that.”
“I don’t understand any of their responses,” Mike admitted. “I thought when I brought up them staying as… concubines they’d freak. Most of them looked as if they wanted to get on their knees and give me a blowjob right then and there.”
“I think I can explain that, at least,” Anastasia said after a pause. “They were girls from small farms in the area, yes?”
“Yes.”
“And they had been sold by their families to be whores,” the girl continued. “The house you live in is much like that of the sheik, you said. They had been taken from their small farms, where they had to work very hard for very little good in their life. They had very little of their own, maybe only their clothes and those are usually from older sisters, and they lived in a place that was very… rough. They had thought they would be whores, to be used by any man who had the money and sometimes in very bad places. Instead you offer them security in what to them is a palace. I can understand it very well. I was sad, very homesick, when I had to leave my family. But to live with the sheik was… paradise.” She stopped and shrugged at his expression.
“My greatest fear in life was what I would do when I grew too old to be with Otryad anymore. He had discussed finding me a husband but anything would be a step down from being his hareem manager; I was not going to find a rich husband, you understand, not in Uzbekistan. I would be the wife, maybe not the first wife, of someone less important than Otryad. My… status was not high enough to get better. I was not a virgin, among other reasons. Otryad is very good about sending his women out into the world; he tries to find them husbands and if he cannot he sets them up with money of their own. But he likes young girls; I was only still in the hareem because I was a good manager. But Darya was old enough to take over while still being younger, and fresher, than I.”
“Well, I didn’t see the rest of his hareem,” Mike said, using her term. “But if he was kicking you out of his bed he was an idiot.”
“There are women aplenty in the world to a man with money,” Anastasia said, shrugging.
“Not many that are as good looking as you,” Mike said, then frowned. “Okay, except among the Keldara, I’ll admit.”
“These are your retainers?” Anastasia asked, curiously.
“I don’t know what to call them,” Mike admitted. “I hate just calling them tenants. I suppose retainers is a good word. The men are generally pretty damned handsome and the women are fucking outstanding. The beer’s good, too. Great place to live. Not that I wouldn’t mind going back to the States some time. But, for now, the valley’s a good place to live. I’m doing good work there, getting them up to speed on modern farming, I got them equipment so they could retire their horse teams, and I’m training them so they can defend themselves. Not much of that, yet. That’s why I’m hurrying back; training starts on Monday after this planting festival.”