Planet of Adventure Omnibus (80 page)

“‘Mother-women’
? Do you mean women with children?”

She flushed. “I
mean the women with prominent breasts and hips. There are so many! Some of them
seem very young: no more than girls.”

“It’s quite
normal,” said Reith. “As girls grow out of childhood, they develop breasts and
hips.”

“I am not a
child,” Zap 210 declared in an unusually haughty voice. “And I ...” Her voice
dwindled away.

Reith poured
another mug of tea and settled back into his chair. “It’s time,” he said, “that
I explained certain matters to you. I suppose I should have done so before. All
women are mother-women.”

Zap 210
stared at him incredulously. “This isn’t the case at all!”

“Yes, it is,”
said Reith. “The Pnume fed you drugs to keep you immature: the
diko
, or
so I imagine. You aren’t drugged now and you’re becoming normal-more or less.
Haven’t you noticed changes in yourself?”

Zap 210 sank
back in her chair, dumbfounded by his knowledge of her embarrassing secret. “Such
things are not to be talked about.”

“So long as
you know what’s happening.”

Zap 210 sat
looking out over the water. In a diffident voice she asked, “You have noticed
changes in me?”

“Well, yes.
First of all, you no longer look like the ghost of a sick boy.”

Zap 210
whispered, “I don’t want to be a fat animal, wallowing in the dark. Must I be a
mother?”

“All mothers
are women,” Reith explained, “but not all women are mothers. Not all mothers
become fat animals.”

“Strange,
strange! Why are some women mothers and not others? Is it evil destiny?”

“Men are
involved in the process,” said Reith. “Look yonder, on the deck of that
cottage: two children, a woman, a man. The woman is a mother. She is young and
looks healthy. The man is the father. Without fathers, there are no children.”

Before Reith
could proceed with his explanation, old Cauch returned to the table and seated
himself.

“All is
satisfactory?”

“Very much
so,” said Reith. “We will regret leaving your village.”

Cauch nodded
complacently. “In a few poor ways we are a fortunate folk, neither rigorous
like the Khors, nor obsessively flexible like the Thangs to the west. What of
yourselves? I admit to curiosity regarding your provenance and your
destination, for I regard you as unusual folk.”

Reith
ruminated a moment or two, then said: “I don’t mind satisfying your curiosity
if you are willing to pay my not, unreasonable fee. In fact I can offer you
various grades of enlightenment. For a hundred sequins I guarantee amazement
and awe.”

Cauch drew
back, hands raised in protest. “Tell me nothing upon which you place a value!
But any oddments of small talk you can spare at no charge will find in me an
attentive listener.”

Reith
laughed. “Triviality is a luxury I can’t afford. Tomorrow we depart Zsafathra.
Our few sequins must take us to Sivishe-in what fashion I don’t know.”

“As to this I
can’t advise you,” said Cauch, “not even for a fee. My experience extends only
so far as Urmank. Here you must go carefully. The Thangs will take all your
sequins without a qualm. Useless to feel anger or injury! This is the Thang
temperament. Rather than work they prefer to connive; Zsafathrans are very much
on their guard when they visit Urmank, as you will see should you choose to go
in our company to the Urmank bazaar.”

“Hmm.” Reith
rubbed his chin. “What of our boat, in this case?”

Cauch shrugged,
somewhat too casually or so it seemed to Reith. “What is a boat? A floating
shell of wood.”

“We had
planned to sell this valuable boat at Urmank,” said Reith. “Still, to save
myself the effort of navigation, I will let it go here for less than its full
value.”

With a quiet
laugh Cauch shook his head. “I have no need for so clumsy and awkward a craft.
The rigging is frayed, the sails are by no means the best; there is only a poor
assortment of gear and rope in the forward caddy.”

After an hour
and a half of proposals and counter-proposals Reith disposed of the boat for
forty-two sequins, together with all costs of accommodation at Zsafathra, and
transportation to Urmank on the morrow. As they bargained they consumed
quantities of the pepper tea, a mild intoxicant. Reith’s mood became loose and
easy. The present seemed none too bad. The future? It would be met on its own
terms. At the moment the failing afternoon light seeped through the enormous
ouinga trees, pervading the air with dusty violet, and the pond mirrored the
sky.

Cauch went
off about his affairs; Reith leaned back in his chair. He considered Zap 210,
who also had drunk a considerable quantity of the pepper tea. Some alteration
of his mood caused him to see her not as a Pnumekin and a freak but as a
personable young woman sitting quietly in the dusk. Her attention was fixed on
something across the pavilion; what she saw astonished her and she turned to
Reith in wonder. Reith noticed how large and dark were her eyes. She spoke in a
shocked whisper. “Did you see ...
that?.”

“What?”

“A young man
and a young woman-they stood close and put their faces together!”

“Really!”

“Yes!”

“I can’t
believe it. Just what did they do?”

“Well-I can’t
quite describe it.”

“Was it like
this?” Reith put his hands on her shoulders, looked deep into the startled
eyes.

“No ... not
quite. They were closer.”

“Like this?”

Reith put his
arms around her. He remembered the cold water of the Pagaz lake, the desperate
animal vitality of her body as she had clung to him. “Was it like this?”

She pushed
back at his shoulders. “Yes ... Let me go; someone might think us boisterous.”

“Did they do
this?” Reith kissed her. She looked at him in astonishment and alarm, and put
her hand to her mouth. “No ... Why did you do that?”

“Did you
mind?”

“Well, no. I
don’t think so. But please don’t do it again; it makes me feel very strangely.”

“That,” said
Reith, “is the effects of the
diko
wearing off.” He drew back and sat
with his head spinning. She looked at him uncertainly. “I can’t understand why
you did that.”

Reith took a
deep breath. “It’s natural for men and women to be attracted to each other.
This is called the reproductive instinct, and sometimes it results in children.”

Zap 210
became alarmed. “Will I now be a mother-woman?”

“No,” said
Reith. “We’d have to become far friendlier.”

“You’re sure?”

Reith thought
that she leaned toward him. “I’m sure.” He kissed her again, and this time,
after a first nervous motion, she made no resistance ... then she gasped. “Don’t
move. They won’t notice us if we sit like this; they’ll be ashamed to look.”

Reith froze,
his face close to hers. “Who won’t notice us?” he muttered.

“Look-now.”

Reith glanced
over his shoulder. Across the pavilion stood two dark shapes wearing black
cloaks and wide-brimmed black hats.

“Gzhindra,”
she whispered.

Cauch came
into the pavilion, and went to talk with the Gzhindra. After a moment he led
them out into the road.

Dusk became
night. Across the pavilion the serving girls hung up lamps with yellow and
green shades, and brought new trays and tureens to the buffet table. Reith and
Zap 210 sat somberly back in the shadows.

Cauch,
returning to the pavilion, joined them. “Tomorrow at dawn we will depart for
Urmank, and no doubt arrive by noon. You know the reputation of the Thangs?”

“To some
extent.”

“The
reputation is deserved,” said Cauch. “They cheat in preference to keeping
faith; their favorite money is stolen money. So be on your guard.”

Reith asked
casually, “Who were the two men in black with whom you spoke half an hour ago?”

Cauch nodded
as if he had been awaiting the question. “Those were Gzhindra, or Ground-men as
we call them, who sometimes act as agents for the Pnume. Their business tonight
was different. They have taken a commission from the Khors to locate a man and
a woman who desecrated a sacred place and stole a boat near the town of Fauzh.
The description, by a peculiar coincidence, matched your own, though certain
discrepancies enabled me to state with accuracy that no such persons had been
seen at Zsafathra. Still, they may discuss the matter with people who do not
know you as well as I; to avoid any possible confusion of identities, I suggest
that you alter your appearance as dramatically as possible.”

“That is
easier said than done,” said Reith.

“Not
altogether.” Cauch put his fingers into his mouth, producing a shrill whistle.
Without surprise or haste one of the serving girls approached: a pleasant
creature, broad in hips, shoulders, cheekbones and mouth, with nondescript
brown hair worn in a wildly coquettish array of ringlets. “Well, then, you
desire something?”

“Bring a pair
of turbans,” said Cauch. “The orange and white, with black bangles.”

The girl
procured the articles. Going to Zap 210, she wound the orange and white cloth
around the black cap of hair, tied it so that the tasseled ends hung behind the
left ear, then affixed black bangles to swing somewhat in front of the right
ear. Reith marveled at the transformation. Zap 210 now seemed daring and
mischievous, a gay young girl costumed as a pirate.

Reith was
next fitted with the turban; Zap 210 seemed to find the transformation amusing;
she opened her mouth and laughed: the first occasion Reith had heard her do so.

Cauch
appraised them both. “A remarkable difference. You have become a pair of
Hedaijhans. Tomorrow I will provide you with shawls. Your very mothers would
not know you.”

“What do you
charge for this service?” demanded Reith. “A reasonable sum, I hope?”

“A total of
eight sequins, to include the articles themselves, fitting, and training in the
postures of the Hedaijhans. Essentially, you must walk with a swagger, swinging
your arms-so.” Cauch demonstrated a mincing lurching gait. “With your hands-so.
Now, lady, you first. Remember, your knees must be bent. Swing, swagger...”

Zap 210
followed the instructions with great earnestness, looking toward Reith to see
if he laughed.

The practice
went on into the night, while the pink moon sailed behind the ouinga trees, and
the blue moon rose in the east. Finally Cauch pronounced himself satisfied. “You
would deceive almost anyone. So then, to the couch. Tomorrow we journey to
Urmank.”

The sleeping
cubicle was dim, cracks in the rattan wall admitting slits of green and yellow
light from the pavilion lamps, as many more from the pink and blue moons shining
from different directions to make a multicolored mesh on the floor.

Zap 210 went
to the wall and peered through the cracks out toward the avenue which ran under
the ouingas. She looked for several minutes. Reith came to join her. “What do
you see?”

“Nothing.
They would not let themselves be seen so easily.” She turned away and with an
inscrutable glance toward Reith went to sit on one of the wicker couches.
Presently she said, “You are a very strange man.”

Reith had no
reply to make.

“There is so
much you don’t tell me. Sometimes I feel as if I know nothing whatever.”

“What do you
want to know?”

“How people
of the surface act, how they feel ... why they do the things they do...”

Reith went to
where she sat and stood looking down at her. “Do you want to learn all these
things tonight?”

She sat
looking down at her hands. “No. I’m afraid ... Not now.”

Reith reached
out and touched her head. He was suddenly wildly tempted to sit down beside her
and tell her the tale of his remarkable past ... He wanted to feel her eyes on
him; to see her pale face attentive and marveling ... In fact, thought Reith,
he had begun to find this strange girl with her secret thoughts stimulating.

He turned
away. As he crossed to his own couch he felt her eyes on his back.

THE MORNING
SUNLIGHT entered the cubicle, strained by the withes of the wall. Going out
upon the pavilion, Reith and Zap 210 found Cauch making a breakfast of
pilgrim-pod cakes and a hot broth redolent of the shore. He inspected Reith and
Zap 210 narrowly, paying particular attention to the turbans and their gait. “Not
too bad. But you tend to forget. More swagger, lady, more shrug to your
shoulders. Remember when you leave the pavilion you are Hedaijhans, in case
suspicions have been aroused, in case someone waits and watches.”

After
breakfast, the three went out upon the avenue which led northward under the
ouinga trees, Reith and Zap 210 as thoroughly Hedaijhan as turban, shawl and
mincing gait could make them, to a pair of carts drawn by a type of animal
Reith had not previously seen: a gray-skinned beast which pranced elegantly and
precisely on eight long legs.