The Totems of Abydos (33 page)

Brenner turned about, again, to look outward, through the fence.

The operator, not guard, had descended from the tower, some fifteen Commonworld feet tall, which gave him a view along the fence for some hundreds of yards on both sides, and then out, for another hundred yards or so, to the margin of the forest. He took the papers from Rodriguez and, holding them against the side of the tower, initialed them. He and Rodriguez then exchanged some remarks, many of them good-humored and rough, and some of which Brenner found crude and embarrassing. Such, Brenner supposed, with a twinge of envy, passes for camaraderie amongst boors. Amongstst these diverse observations were several on Pons, not all of which, as the reader may have suspected, were complimentary. The operator, it seemed, doubtless a provincial, or outworlder, had not received an appropriate conditioning, one which would have encouraged him to give certain principles priority over the apparent evidence of his senses, for example, with respect to the intellectual, moral, and social equivalence, once suitably defined, and properly understood, of all life forms, from the flatworm to the meditative, polyplike megabregma, forty percent of whose weight was cerebral tissue. Whereas perhaps there was an excuse for the operator, a company employee, and doubtless a simple, ill-educated outworlder, to manifest inappropriate discourse and express discouraged views, what excuse could there be, Brenner wondered, for Rodriguez? Clearly Rodriguez was not stupid. It is always unsettling when one who is obviously not stupid disagrees with one. One may then, of course, revise one’s opinion. Perhaps he is stupid, after all. Or, too, one might more charitably suppose a lack of information, insanity, or perhaps iniquity. Iniquities and insanities, of course, go in and out of fashion. If one wishes to reassure oneself that one is right, of course, it is easy to do so. One need only ask those who agree with one. No, Rodriguez did not respect the Pons. It was only too obvious that he did not take them seriously, that he held them in contempt. On the other hand, he did regard them as of anthropological interest, and perhaps even, for some reason, particularly so. As I have made clear earlier, Rodriguez was not a champion of value-free science. He had too many values. What was important to him was to understand the data, and to theorize about it intelligently, and such. Nothing in this approach requires that he arrive at politically acceptable results, or even that he approve of what he learns.

The Pons, there were several of them, perhaps thirty or forty, it was hard to tell, as they milled about, had clustered a few yards outside the outer gate.

Brenner glanced back toward Company Station. It was a little lighter now. The planks of the road leading to the gate were slick with rain. He again saw only the buildings, the mud, the sky, the rain.

Rodriguez joined him, thrusting the wet papers back inside his jacket. He then waved to the Pons outside the gate, affably. It seemed they did not dare to return his greeting.

“What are they wearing?” asked Brenner. It surely did not seem typical raingear, though, to be sure, it might have been closely woven.

“Robes, smocks,” said Rodriguez.

“On their heads, over their heads,” said Brenner.

“It appears to be some sort of hood,” said Rodriguez.

“It is some sort of ritual veiling?” asked Brenner. He had not, in his research on Pons, not that a great deal was known of them, come on anything of this sort. It was a detail which certainly would not be likely to be omitted, even from a superficial account.

“I do not think so,” said Rodriguez.

“Perhaps they are timid, frightened, pathologically shy,” suggested Brenner.

“Perhaps,” said Rodriguez.

“Are there females amongstst them?” asked Brenner. The clothing of Pons, he had gathered from his reading, and from certain drawings, as there had appeared, oddly enough, to be no film records, or even photographs, of Pons, as that of many parts of the home world, was designed to minimize, or conceal, sexual differences, this having to do with the political desiderata of personistic neuterism.

“Probably not in this bunch,” said Rodriguez. To be sure, it was difficult to tell.

The operator had now switched a red light on at the top of the tower, making it clear to all that the current was still on, and that the field was active. The switching from red to green, in color codes the origin of which was lost in antiquity, would indicate deactivation. Green would remain lit while the field remained deactivated. Its flashing would indicate the proximity of activation. The switch from a flashing green to a red, which would be sustained for a short time, indicated reactivation. Then the red light, too, would be extinguished, its illumination being unnecessary given the presumption of activation, the presumed normal condition of the field, and the posting of the area. If one were in doubt as to the activation of the field, of course, there were simple ways in which its condition might be ascertained. For example, one might toss a stick between the fences. If nothing happened, the field was not active. If, on the other hand, the stick seemed to be caught, as if it were lodged in a wall of water, and began to twist, and then, in an instant, burst apart, crackling, and flaming, this would indicate that the field was active.

“They must be terribly shy,” said Brenner.

“I think it is rather that they are secretive,” said Rodriguez.

“I wonder what they look like,” said Brenner.

“We are going to find out,” said Rodriguez. He waved again to the Pons.

“I do not understand,” said Brenner.

“I do not like dealing with people who wear masks,” said Rodriguez.

“Why?” asked Brenner.

“Masks may conceal fangs,” he said.

He again waved affably at the Pons, who regarded them, clearly alert, clearly aware of them, but refraining from any explicit reciprocation of Rodriguez’s overture.

Brenner was uneasy. “You will not do anything foolish?” he asked.

“We must establish our footing with them,” said Rodriguez.

“If they are concerned with secrecy, and such,” said Brenner, “how is it that we are here? It seems unlikely they would simply open their lives, or culture, to us, if they commonly conceal it with such care.”

“Doubtless they want something from us,” said Rodriguez.

“What?” asked Brenner.

“Probably gifts, and such,” said Rodriguez. He had brought, of course, the customary trinkets, beads, ribbons, mirrors, and such, with which those of his species were wont to deal with, and impress, certain other life forms, which, in spite of their indubitable equivalence, might prefer colored glass to the abstractions of credits.

“The light is green,” said Brenner.

The two gates then slid back.

Rodriguez picked up a pebble and tossed it between the gates of the double fence. He was not the sort of fellow to trust to signals which might be deceptive, perhaps for so trivial a reason as a fault in wiring.

Brenner turned about, to look back toward the buildings of Company Station.

“Why are you looking back?” asked Rodriguez.

“No reason,” said Brenner.

“Look forward,” said Rodriguez. “Not back.”

Brenner did not respond to him.

“Did you sleep well?” inquired Rodriguez.

Brenner did not respond.

“How was the brunette?” he asked.

Brenner did not respond.

“She looked well on a chain,” said Rodriguez.

“So, too, did the blonde,” said Brenner, irritably.

“They all do,” granted Rodriguez. He then turned about and waved to the Pons, to enter through the gate.

“What are you doing?” asked Brenner.

“We have drawn the sled far enough,” said Rodriguez. “They can pull it from here.” Then he turned again to the Pons. “Here!” he called. “Sled! Sled! Pull! Pull! Hurry! Hurry!”

Brenner looked back again. He caught his breath. He thought, between the buildings, he caught sight of a small figure hurrying toward them, wrapped in a cloak.

“Here!” called Rodriguez to the Pons. They then, first two or three at a time, and then the others, together, like domesticated animals, came through the gates. Some of them looked upward, at the operator, who doubtless to them was a figure of considerable authority. He waved them through.

Brenner could now see clearly, through the lightly falling rain, that a small figure, indeed, was approaching them, hurrying through the mud, bundled in a cloak. Her feet and calves were bare.

Rodriguez was pointing to the ropes and communicating with the tiny figures now about them, trying to convey his desires to them.

One or two of them were poking at the cases and bundles on the sled.

“No!” said Rodriguez, pointing rather to the ropes.

Brenner felt in his jacket pocket for the small package he had placed there.

The small figure had now changed its direction a little, as had Rodriguez and Brenner earlier, the mud being deep in its path, apparently to reach the more secure footing of the plank road. Then it was on the surface of the road. The mud had come up several inches on her calves. She had had to hold the cloak a bit high, to a point just below her knees, that its hem not drag in the mud. Brenner had not objected to this glimpse of her well-turned calves. She now stood on the plank road, some yards from him. She continued to hold the cloak high. She could not lower it, of course, even on this surface, lest it be soiled from the mud on her legs. Again, of course, Brenner had no objection to this.

She stood there.

Brenner did not, of course, rush to her. He stood there, regarding her. He had grasped last night that it was, for most practical purposes, she who must come to him, that it is the female who must approach, and present herself to, the male. To be sure, she was still a free woman, at least in point of law. The woman under contract, for example, is not free to utter formulas of self-embondment. Being under contract, she is not at liberty to unilaterally alter her status. Such would be in clear violation of the rights of the contract holder. As a technical point, which might be of interest, if the contract is not paid off within a certain period, varying from contract to contract, the woman ceases to be under contract and becomes property, to be disposed of then as the contract holder may desire.

Brenner took a step or two toward the figure. She was, after all, a free woman.

She stood there, regarding him.

But he did not move more closely to her. Even though she might be free, she was, after all, a female.

It seemed she would move more closely toward him, but then she hesitated.

Brenner noted that there was a cloth wrapped about her left ankle, apparently to shield the lock, chain, and disk, to protect them from the mud. Yesterday, he recalled, in the street, when they had collided with one another, she had not been wearing the chain and disk.

Behind him Brenner could hear Rodriguez ordering Pons about.

Brenner wondered why the woman had come to the vicinity of the gate. He wondered if she might come with them for a bit, outside the gate.

There were streaks on her face. Brenner did not know if these were tears, or from the rain.

Brenner became aware of some Pons gathered about him, though he now stood back on the road, away from Rodriguez, away from the sled. He pushed them a bit away. Two or three of them looked up at him, their eyes peering inquisitively, too, it seemed, anxiously, through the holes in the hoods. The Pons were short, their heads on the whole coming only a bit above his belt. One of them pulled on his jacket, looking up at him. It seemed they were eager for him to come along, that he accompany them. Brenner pushed the Pon away.

“Good,” Rodriguez was saying, behind him. Brenner gathered that he was making progress with the Pons, that he was succeeding in communicating with them. He was enlisting them, or, perhaps better, impressing them, in the matter of drawing the sled. He was determined they prove useful. To be sure, what he wanted would not require great intelligence to fathom. On the other hand, Brenner did not know what the intelligence of the Pons might be. He doubted that it was particularly high, except, of course, that, whatever it was, it would count, in its type, as being the equivalent of any intelligence existing in any galaxy, or yet to be detected in any galaxy, this having to do with the equivalence of all life forms. Brenner hoped that they would have at least the intelligence of bright children.

Another Pon tugged on his jacket.

“Go away!” said Brenner. Then he said, “I’m sorry.” It was bad enough that Rodriguez might contaminate the data. He did not want to risk the same thing.

Yes, the woman’s face was wet. Surely it must be from the rain.

Why had she come, Brenner wondered. She has come for her pastry, he thought. That is why she has come. She had come for her pastry. He felt the package in his pocket.

“We are ready,” called Rodriguez.

He thought the woman sobbed, and put out her hand.

Brenner felt he should apologize to her for last night. How shamefully he had treated her! He had not treated her, at least not always, as he should have, as a same. Indeed, unaccountably, astoundingly, shamefully, he had betrayed his own conditioning program, that which had been imposed upon him from childhood. Needless to say Brenner, predictably, had experienced a good deal of misery and guilt this morning, at least after leaving the establishment of the zard. After all, you could not really expect his conditioning program to sit idly by and languish in its own neglect, and, indeed, it had not long delayed in exacting its revenge. On the other hand, Brenner had not suffered as much as certain individuals might have hoped, which such individuals might have regarded as an additional defect on his part.