Yuen-Mong's Revenge (23 page)

     
The first twenty or so kilometers were through peaceful pastoral farm
land with herds of cows and flocks of sheep.

     
"Look all these animals. What are they?" Yuen-mong cried excitedly.

     
"The black and white or brown and white spotted ones are cows, the
wooly ones are sheep, and over there are a few horses, used for riding."

 
     
"Look, they have young ones. How cute."

 
     
He loved her unashamed pleasure and smiled.

     
"Don’t you laugh. I have never seen any mammals, except humans."

 
     
"I don’t laugh at you. I love it when you show your excitement."

 
     
"Good. I will then. Have you ever ridden a horse?"

 
     
"No. There are very few on Palo. I’ve heard the soil doesn’t suit
them."

 
     
"Let’s see if we can go for a ride before leaving Old Earth."

 
     
"OK if you wish."

 
     
"Yes, indulge me a bit until I’m a seasoned traveler. I have almost two
decades of experiences to catch up on."

 
     
He put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. He felt happy.

     
The city had a small-town, provincial character. It looked quaint, old-fashioned compared to the cities on Palo, like movies depicting life on
Old Earth, and then he remembered; this was Old Earth. Many areas
looked run down. They let themselves be dropped off at the Park Hotel
Chateau Otautahi, one of few high-rises in town. It gave a reasonably
respectable impression.

     
As they entered the hotel lobby, he in a sports jacket and Yuen-mong
in one of her mother’s pant suits — both the latest fashion twenty years
earlier — he immediately noticed that everybody looked at them in a
funny way. He even overheard some comments along the line: "Look at
their outfits. Where do these two come from?"

 
     
Yuen-mong gave him a knowing look. He had halfway expected her
to react embarrassed, but she seemed amused.
Will anything ever faze
her?
he mused silently. He presented his credit ID and got some local
cash. They were assigned a room on level 19, just below the penthouse,
offering superb views toward the mountains, stretching all along the
western horizon. Going up in the elevator was another first for Yuen-mong, and she grabbed his hand when the elevator accelerated.

     
She inspected their room facilities thoroughly and was intrigued by
the king-size bed. She guessed that the big spa tub in the bathroom was
for taking a bath and immediately began shedding her clothing.

     
"Come," she exclaimed, "it’s big enough for both of us."

 
     
So they spent their next half hour submerged in hot water, massaged
by the jets, her back against him. After a while, he noticed that she had
fallen asleep in his arms and a warm glow swelled in his heart.

* * *
 

The last rays of light were fading when they went out in search of an
eating place. For the first time in months, he became aware of Yuen-mong’s limp, when several people turned to look at her. He would have
to tell her about it.

     
As they walked down the street, studying the old-fashioned printed
menus displayed outside restaurants, a sudden howling made them turn.
Across the street, two guys were manhandling a woman in high heels,
wearing only a halter top and a short, tight skirt that barely covered her
bottom. One of the guys was slapping her face. Atun immediately
guessed that the girl was a sex worker and tried to shepherd Yuen-mong
away from the ugly scene. But without warning, she bounded across the
street, and he heard her shout: "Leave her alone!"

 
     
The taller of the guys let go of the girl, eyeing Yuen-mong with a
lewd grin. "Want to work for me, honey? But not in this outfit. Did you
steal this from your grandmother?"

 
     
What followed happened so fast that later on he could never properly
piece it together. The guy yelled out, blood spurting from his nose, and
then the other crumpled to the ground, holding his groin, hollering.

     
"Don’t show your ugly faces in this street again. Away! Now!" She
kicked the one on the ground.

     
It reminded him of her stance when she had held a whole clan of
savages in check. The two only took another look at her and ran down the
street.

     
"Are you hurt?" Yuen-mong bent down to the smaller girl.

     
But rather than answer her, the latter whined: "And who’ll be looking
after me now? Will you do it?"

 
     
"What do you mean, looking after you? They were hitting you,"
replied Yuen-mong.

     
"They are also my protection," whimpered the girl, tears ruining her
heavy makeup.

     
By that time, Atun had reached Yuen-mong and whispered: "Let’s go.
I’ll explain later."

 
     
Reluctantly, she followed him. They walked the gauntlet of gawking
people and entered the first restaurant. Called ‘Chez Pierre’, it advertised
genuine French cuisine.

     
"Did I do something wrong?" she asked when they were seated.

     
"Yes and no. You mixed yourself into a quarrel between a sex worker
and her pimp."

 
     
"Sex worker? Pimp? What are they?"

 
     
He explained. By the end, she let out a short laugh and said: "Now I
get it why she complained. But what I don’t understand is why do men
pay for sex and why would women offer it for sale?"

 
     
That too took a lot of explaining.

     
"On Aros they steal women from other tribes and rape them; here they
force them to sell themselves," she commented, "not really that much
different."

 
     
"The difference is that the savages on Aros are primitive and easily
scared; these men here are unscrupulous crooks who don’t shy away from
killing anybody who gets in their way. That pimp could want to take
revenge and hire somebody to kill you. So, please, Yuen-mong, be more
careful. This is not Aros."

 
     
"Don’t tell me that life on Aros had fewer dangers. They were just
different and all deadly."

 
     
"Yes, I know. But you don’t yet know the ones here. Please, let me
guide you."

 
     
"Are we switching roles?" Her eyes lit up briefly in amusement. "I
promise I will ask, but I won’t promise not to act."

 
     
The waiter brought them the menu card and told them the specials
of the day. Yuen-mong immediately seemed to catch on what the card
was for. To his surprise, she called the waiter back and asked him to
recommend a local specialty. He suggested that they try mushrooms in
a garlic and blue cheese sauce as a first course, and as the main the rack
of lamb with tart red currants, a specialty of the house, served with new
potatoes and tender beans, together with a bottle of local Sauvignon
Blanc. She loved the French baguette and the fresh butter the waiter
brought with the wine.
It’s her first real bread and butter!
he mused. He
had never seen her eat that much, and she beamed after every bite. And
he had to admit that he had never eaten a better meal himself.

* * *

"That is what I call food. That meat even beats wader thighs," Yuen-mong remarked, offering him a happy smile, as they walked hand-in-hand back to the hotel. It was the crowning conclusion to an eventful day,
that had begun with putting down Vishnu at the space port. For the first
time in over three weeks she sensed again the mental murmur of several
distinct human minds against a background of emanations from unknown
creatures. The quality of the latter had a similar character as nature on
Aros, while the human component was less chaotic than the minds of the
savages, more purposeful, like a multiple of Atun’s mind at the time she
had first met him. After opening the ship’s door, individual minds
separated, and she could attribute them to the various people on the
ground, sensing mainly bored curiosity. She copied Atun’s greeting by
also waving a hand. In fact, she intended to copy his behavior, at least
initially until she felt more secure with the customs of these advanced
worlds.

     
One stocky man stood out by his emanations, a mixture of suspicion
and slyness, and she felt an immediate distrust. He introduced himself as
the port traffic control officer, extending his right to shake hands, holding
on to hers longer than necessary. It felt like being undressed. He invited
them both to the port traffic building, "to pay their dues," he added,
grinning, his gaze straying to her breasts again. She declined, wanting to
stay with the ship until it could be locked securely.

     
 Initially, she thought that she was coming down with a cold or something. Every movement required an extra effort. Then she remembered
that Old Earth gravity was about twenty percent higher than on Aros, and
almost twice the one of Vishnu.

     
Driving through the farmland filled her with delight, both in terms of
what she saw and the mental emanations of the animal world. As they
entered the city, the mental chaos gradually rose. Inside the hotel lobby,
teaming with people, it reached fever pitch and she found it hard to take
in what she saw. She longed for the rural scene they had just passed
through. Even the uniform quiet, with only Atun’s presence, was
preferable. She would have to learn how to cope with that, reduce it to a
tolerable level and only let a selected few reach her consciousness or else
she would go crazy. The relative quietness of the room allowed her to
recover, and peace returned to her mind when she was resting against
Atun, gently massaged by the waters of the spa pool, feeling his hands
cup her breasts.

     
When she heard the cries of the young woman, as they searched for
a good restaurant, she acted on instinct, more in response to the nasty
minds of the two men who seemed to get pleasure from what they were
doing. It was like the repeat of a scene on Aros when three savages were
beating two young girls who had just reached womanhood into submission. They too ended up with bloody faces, running away hunched over
their groins. She was all the more surprised when she sensed the
woman’s distress about who would look after her, in stark contrast to the
two Aros girls who had smiled through their tears. She decided that from
now on she would not react on instinct unless there was danger to either
her or Atun. That too was different from Aros.

     
One disconcerting puzzle remained. The minds that seemed to seek
her out conveyed one of two emotions, either pity or disdain. Was it their
clothing or something else? She would have to talk to Atun about it.

     
Back in their hotel room she questioned him: "I get the sense that
most people who look at me either show pity or disdain? Is it the clothes
I wear?" She immediately sensed his own discomfort. "Atun, the truth!"

 
     
"Yuen-mong, some of it is the clothing … and that you don’t wear any
make-up."

 
     
"Make-up? … Ah, face-paint. I noticed that some paint their faces like
the savages when they sacrifice one of their own to the craw. But these
are not the main reasons, true?"

 
     
"No … it’s your limp."

 
     
"My limp? Why?"

 
     
"In all advanced worlds, people with physical handicaps are seen as
inferior, either pitied or disdained."

 
     
She raised her eyebrows. "Is that so?"

 
     
"Yes. There are few things more highly priced than bodily perfection.
No parents, except if they are very poor, would allow a child to grow up
with a visible physical disability or blemish. They all would be corrected
by surgery. Many people even undergo cosmetic surgery to make their
faces more symmetric, give their noses or chins more pleasing forms,
stretch the face skin to reduce wrinkles. Women reduce their breast size
or have implants to give their breast the ideal shape, and even a shapely
bum may have been created by surgery and implants."