Clara has "The Blush"

Dear Diary,
I was interrupted in my last writing session by the estate alarms going off. Seems that the Gurkha guards spotted movement in the woods, and raised quite a fuss. I must say, the idea of them running about in their fatigues firing those Aether Rifles is quite a bit more exciting than the embarrassing end to me and Cordelia's little "experimentation" anyway. The bright, emerald beams igniting the bioluminescence of the forest, sending the strange creatures of this world scattering into burrows and up branches as they pursue their quarry.

I'm quite familiar with the lesser domestic fauna of this place, and owned an infant Chromato-Swan before it became simply too large, even for the aviary. Father wouldn't let me name it for fear that I'd become attached, though of course I convinced him to let me give it a nickname: Liamay; after my dear, sweet Liam back home. My father suggested, in his infinite cleverness, to name it Glow-Wing, since it was both a bird and it glowed in the brilliant blues and purples of the wildlife here. I only record this for when those times I need to reflect on something that my father, though a successful businessman, says something so stupid it makes me seriously consider running away to the pilgrims in the mountain colonies.

I sometimes imagine, when a shadow crosses overhead, its my Liamay soaring above, checking up on the doting little girl that fed it until its wings were wide and strong; and that it would swoop down and rescue me from a life in this silk prison where the only distractions are writing in this diary until the ComSat is back online or watching Sanjay and Cordelia rut like wild animals. Well, in fairness I can't judge her too harshly anymore, even though I chickened out before I was even able to get his manhood halfway into my mouth...

However, it was no Chromato-Swan that the guards were pursuing. One of our cattle was found, or more should I say they found bits of it where it should have been, and they raised the alarm. No word on what they found out in jungle, but my money is on an Arachnirilla. The 'Rillas, as we've taken to calling them, are simply enormous at nearly 700 lbs. I've seen their webs high up in the trees during our safaris; and have heard the most scandalous tales about how to wive's of the mountain settlers met a most troubling fate if they wandered too far into the woods after dark.

Dear Diary,

Cordelia is simply beside herself. Her oldest brother Brendan was killed back on Earth. Details are few and far between, but he was a Gyrofighter pilot on patrol. Father and mother seem very worried about something. Without the ComSat, we have to rely on old fashioned radio wave transmissions that are on a three week delay. They aren't telling me everything, I'm sure. While I don't pay much attention to Earth politics, I know that tensions between us and the Americans have been deteriorating since they've been able to harness Soma technology as well, despite our sanctions.

Poor Cordelia. I couldn't imagine what it'd be like to lose Bruce or Sam Jr. I'll have to come up with some way to distract her from her grief.

Dear Diary,
I am simply cursed. Not only has rumores of my little experimentation spread, but my father informed me that we were going dark for the foreseeable future. The Americans raided our supply shipment shortly after it took off and before it enter the Fold. Now I am going to be stuck in the dark with only candles and BrightFerns to light the house. He tried to cheer me up with the news of an expedition to explore a possible Soma quarry a few days North. So my choices are to either leave Cordelia to her grief and travel with my father and the other explorers on what will probably be another boring geological survey, or stay here with mother and the other less adventurous families.

When I went ask Mother, she was receiving her skin treatment. She lay out on the patio, not a stitch of clothing on her, with the beautiful unmarried Hindu servant girls rubbing and massaging oils into her lovely skin. "Oh Clara," she said with her carefully crafted tone, "I know you are very restless here. I was too at your age. Why the adventures I had..." she said, drifting off with a blush. "Its natural for a girl who has come of age to want to explore and experience the world around her, especially before she is married off to some company big wig. It's simply too dangerous to go out right now. More cattle have turned up missing, and the guards won't be able to provide adequate protection for a helpless child such as yourself." The nerve of that woman! I am not helpless!

"However, you seem to have come down with the Blush, if rumors are to be believed. Come now, you are old enough. Let the girls give you a skin treatment while we have a mother-daughter chat."
The Blush. Yes, I suppose its true. Its a perculiar affliction in the colonies. Young men and women living together, surrounded by wilderness we cannot explore with parents that won't let us even date without a chaperone, cut off from the electronic stimulation that our terrestrial kin may simply beam into the privacy of their bedchambers and take care of themselves. So, we end up sneaking around in dark corridors and empty rooms, getting ourselves into trouble. I wonder if it was Cordelia or Sanjay that was bragging about our little encounter. Probably Sanjay. I've heard of picnics were some of the colonists simply encircle a couple and pleasure themselves while they watch...

I disrobed, feeling a little self conscious standing so naked in front of the servants. They greeted me with warm smiles as they gently led me down to the lounging chair. I must admit, their smooth hands were quite skillful, but didn't imagine just how much so. "Clara, the blush is nothing new. I had it, oh boy did I have it." she said, a smile returning to her face. I propped my head up, enjoying the new (well, mostly new) sensation of the oils being massaged into my pale skin, and listened to her tale.