The Time Riders: Part 15

Modern Servitude Compared To Ancient.

Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.

<figure class="tmblr-full"></figure>

Mooredale Secondary.

Becky was pinching her eyes as she listened to one of her
students try to explain how light was both a wave and a particle. He was
saying 'umm...' so often that she began to think she was listening to the Prime
Minister. Well, that wasn't fair, the PM was a Gen X'er, it was kind of their
thing and all of them did it, with a few notable exceptions.

"Thank you, Cory, please sit down before you hurt
yourself," she sighed, sitting up straight while the students all
snickered at Cory. He sat, blushing. Becky put her glasses back on. She didn't
need them, but she thought it helped with the image she meant to convey.
"People, I gave you this assignment over two weeks ago, and you need to be
able to articulate this on your final exam. Does anyone know how to
answer this question?"

Becky groaned inwardly when Gina Felton put her hand up. She
gestured resignedly for the student to stand.

"Light acts or can be measured as a particle or a wave
depending on when and how you try to observe it," the smarmy student
began. Becky, along with most of the students, just shut their eyes. The bell
didn't ring soon enough for Becky's liking, but she needed to get these twerps
out of here.

"Don't forget, assignments on radiation due
tomorrow!" she called after them while they all hurried out of the
classroom. She wished she actually kept a bottle of whiskey in her desk drawer
sometimes. Mark had avoided looking at her as he left, as if trying to dodge a
velociraptor. Thank God she couldn't get out of eventually giving him a passing
grade, because he definitely didn't deserve anything more than a Z-minus.

"Another day with the peerless minds of the
future?" she heard Kay drawl from the door. "Don't worry, babe, moron
students have always been a thing. Do you know about a TV show called 'Welcome
Back, Kotter'?"

"Yeah, I used to watch reruns of it with my dad was I
was little," Becky sighed, shaking her head. "These kids aren't funny
enough to be Sweathogs, though."

"Maybe, but you get through to the ones that
count," the older woman said, strolling in and pulling a chair around to
sit in backward, straddling the seat and resting her arms on the back.
"They can't all be thick as shit, can they?"

"Most of them are in your classes too, so you have the
same info I do," muttered the blonde, removing her glasses and rubbing her
temples. "They really took it out of me today, I can't wait to get back
home so that Nanu can f’

She pursed her mouth shut and stopped talking. She looked at
Kay, who was smiling slyly.

"I knew it," the teacher breathed, wagging
a finger. "You do have something going on with Nanu, you're bi,
Fischer."

"Fine," Becky said, rolling her eyes. "It's
preferable to having everyone thinking that I'm boffing Simmons in any
event."

"None of the gals would blame you," Kay said
coyly, smirking. "Besides, if you're looking after that Nanu girl for the
rest of her life, looking after you is the least she can do."

"Gross, Kay," Becky said, frowning. "She
didn't trade in being a slave to become a prostitute. I want her to
thrive."

"Just keep her from singing," laughed her
co-worker. "Ya' gonna bring her out again to our next bitching fest?"

"She'll want to go, as long as there's food and
Zeppli," Becky said, standing now. She needed to get out of here. "We
have a play date this Friday, actually, with my profs from university."

"Oh, wow, you mean the Viking god and the zillionaire
heiress you told us about?" Kay queried. "Lucky bitch. Can you take
pics?"

"Probably not the sort of visit one takes pics of, or
at least doesn't share," Becky pointed out, gathering up her things from
the desk. "It's going to blow Nanu away, I'm pretty sure."

"Ya' wouldn't need to be Nanu the slave to be blown
away, trust me," Kay pointed out. "In any event, don't forget the
audit tomorrow. The suits are coming in to make sure we're teaching the right
way and being inclusive about grades."

"I am so fucked;” Becky grumbled, stuffing her
cellphone in her purse.

Home.

"So what new and exciting things did you do today?"
Becky asked as she sat Nanu down for dinner. They were trying meatloaf in gravy
tonight, along with mashed potatoes and steamed carrots. Nanu was almost
drooling as she looked at the food.

"I tried some of your toys out," Nanu said,
waiting while Becky put butter on the carrots. "I got scared and quit
after trying to use one of them."

"Let me guess, the egg?" Becky mused,
smirking. Nanu nodded. "I thought that one might freak you out. Don't
worry, I'll show you how to use all of them safely, and then you'll love them.
What else did you get up to?"

"I followed your instructions about using the
lapp-topp," Nanu continued, poking the mashed potatoes with her fork.
It smelled good, but looked like lumpy white shit. How strange. But Mistress
had them on her plate too, so Nanu was clearly missing something. "I
looked at pictures of Kana-da, and of Rome, and of my home;”

"Rome probably doesn't look anything like you
remember it," Becky said, sitting down finally and pouring wine for
each of them. It was actually Falernian wine she'd brought back with Mark from
their initial visit to Imperial Rome, where they'd first met Nanu. She intended
to bring a bottle or two along for the playdate on Friday.

Nanu nodded. "It is all ruins. The mighty Romans
have fallen. They were not as strong as they thought. Who destroyed them,
Mistress?"

Becky shrugged as she began to eat. She had made sure Nanu
could use her cutlery properly, and Nanu watched her for cues about how to
proceed. "It was a slow decline, my love, over a few hundred years. But
there were nomadic tribes called Huns who began the fall, and then the people
of Germania finished it, the tribes you call Goths."

Nanu made a face. "The tall, smelly straw-heads?
They made Rome fall? Where are they today?"

Becky didn't know quite how to answer that question. Did she
talk about Germany and the Third Reich? Would that make sense to Nanu? Or the
fact that they were the industrial engine of Europe?

She almost laughed at the thought of trying to explain
'goth' subculture to Nanu.

"What is this called, Mistress?" Nanu
asked, masticating on a mouthful of food. She tapped with the fork at the
steaming brown mass on her plate. "It's very good, if hot."

"Meatloaf," Becky replied. "It's the
ground-up meat of a cow and pig, held together with oats and egg, that baked in
my oven. It's like a meat cake covered in gravy."

"Gray-vee;” Nanu said, looking at the sauce curiously.
It occurred to Becky that Nanu had no analogue for gravy in her own era, and
Becky had no damn idea when gravy had been invented. She'd just ask two people
she was certain would know when she saw them on Friday. She swore those two
knew everything.

"I like everyone we have met so far, Mistress,"
Nanu said, resuming eating. "Even Steve, after he let me try his fire
chicken. That hurt so bad overnight, Mistress."

"I know, baby, and he won't do it again,"
Becky assured her. "The next time you eat hot wings, it'll be because
you like them and want to. He's probably just glad to know he's not on your
grudge list."

Nanu nodded. "I had an invideo list when I lived in
Rome."

"That doesn't surprise me," Becky chuckled.
"You wrote down the names of people who pissed you off so that you take
revenge one day?"

"Well, no," Nanu admitted, blushing a
little. "I was a slave, I didn't have a stylus or any parchment or things
to write on. When I was mad at someone, or they hurt me and I was crying, I'd
lie in my straw and I'd close my eyes and whisper their name into my palm to
help me remember it."

"Did that work?"

"No, I usually forgot," the Egyptian girl
grumbled. "My memory is shit."

"I'm sorry," Becky said, snickering and
trying to control herself. "I promise you, my love, I'm not laughing at
you. You just have a funny way of saying things."

Nanu sniffed indignantly and continued eating her food. At
least food understood her and didn't mock her.

Except for the burning chicken. She'd be whispering into her
palm about it that night, for sure.

Friday morning, finally.

"Should I be nervous, Mistress?" Nanu asked
while Becky was setting out her clothes, humming to herself. Nanu still didn't
have the hang of coordinating her outfits, and left to her own judgement, she
usually ended up looking like a crazy homeless person. Ergo, Becky was in
charge of dressing her for when they went out.

"Even I'm a little nervous, but I always am when I
see my profs," the blonde told her, smiling. "It's been about
three years since I last got together with them, we met up at a certain club.
But I'm also feeling excited. I always have the time of my