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Kulturschock! [2]

Ytte Skovlund's picture
Submission type:

Ytte closed her eyes and let the warm water flow over her body. It felt good, much better than the tepid showers in a cloning pod. No dribbling tepid water. No industrial carbolic soap. This water was as warm as she could stand it, there was plenty pressure in the stream, and the soap. The soap smelled of vanilla. Ytte felt something she realised she had missed for such a long time. She felt feminine, she felt like a lady again.


She shut off the water and stepped away from the shower. The towels were clean, white, soft. It was remarkable. The little oasis of civilisation, of understated but definite luxury that Hyle had carved out for herself. Remarkable indeed. Ytte pulled on a clean t-shirt and pants and went to find Hyle.


Earlier they had tried many outfits or combinations thereof and had settled on what Ytte would wear that eve. The conversation had meandered while they were choosing clothes. Ytte told Hyle more about her past, In turn Hyle understood more, she had listened avidly about the grand houses, the culture that Ytte had grown up in all those centuries ago. Most of all Hyle had remarked about how vividly Ytte could remember her past, those clones she had met before only had hazy recollections of their former pre-clone existence.


For her part, Hyle had explained that she had no memory at all of anything prior to being spawned into this world. She talked only in theory about why she felt she had a Danish identity. Danish was her first language, she figured that her personality must be deeply ingrained in her DNA but at a far more subconscious level but she had no trace of a ‘life’ in her memory. Yes she had occasional dreams about a childhood, but these were only fleeting and barely remembered.


Ytte sat on the bed and watched Hyle applying her make-up. Hyle was seated at a dressing table and carefully applying layers of colours to her eyes.

“A painted harlot?” Ytte said under a soft laugh.

“Absolut!” Hyle’s face split into a big smile as she continued,

Ytte realised that only a day or so before she would have thought that of Hyle and meant it in the most derogatory of terms. But now? Now her attitudes were changing the more she got to know this woman. She was becoming more accepting of this new environment and how free she felt inside it.


“Your turn !” Hyle put down the brush she was using and turned to Ytte.

“Umm...” Ytte looked apprehensive.

Hyle tilted her head in a light hearted challenge. “I’ll go easy on you. Promised.”

Ytte grinned, nodded, and took her place in front of the mirror. She was enjoying this, it was exciting. It reminded her of the clandestine times she and her schoolfriends enjoyed, illicitly breaking draconian rules.


“So how did you and Reavy come to be together?” Ytte sat watching Hyle fuss with her hair in the mirror.

Hyle shrugged with a soft laugh “You tell me. One day I am a flag flying confirmed heterosexual. Next I am waking up next to a woman, and military clone woman at that!” Hyle paused. Ytte watched, Hyle’s face softened and her eyes misted. She went on.

“We had worked together for a couple of years, there was always an understanding. Shared ambitions if you will. One night we were having a sauna. And a few drinks” Hyle laughed softly as she recalled. “Then she told me she had loved me since the first day she met me. Boom.”


Ytte watched Hyle as she stood behind. The hairbrush had paused, Hyle was clearly thinking of Reavy. It made Ytte smile.

“And you love her too?”

Hyle looked at Ytte’s reflection, bit her lip. Nodded. “Deeply.”


Ytte could see the emotion. It read like a book. “But… what about the men. The doctor you mentioned. The blue haired oa.. umm.. guy?”


Hyle laughed. The hairbrush resumed. “I’m not a nun, for fanden skyld! I like to take my pleasures as and when I wish! You have to understand, This is The Province. People come and go. You can’t rely on anyone to remain. So many have come and gone, you just take things when you can. I guess it’s a strange existence, but it’s all we have, hmm?”


Ytte thought deeply. Hyle had a point. Ytte considered all she had seen in her time, all she had had to learn and quickly, how what she learned often jarred with what she had known before, She was adapting, slowly and not easily.

“Did you ever take a lover?” Hyle asked.

Ytte felt her face warm under the foundation. She shook her head. “No, never.”

Hyle peered into Ytte’s face, touching up the mascara as she did so. She just made that damned smirk.


“Done!” She announced and let Ytte see the result of her endeavours.



“Let’s go!”




Joe Spivey's picture

((Love the pout! Sooo Hyle! Ahhhhh youth, where did it go so fast?

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

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