The food was plentiful and good, albeit vegetarian. It was all I could do to stick to my diet; I should become a fat man in no time if I let myself go on the calories. The Arcadians eat enormous amounts of the native Turanian melons. Himself found time to remark, between thunderclaps, that he'd like to see me after the meal.
In his office, Motta came to the point: "I notice you have visited the Adorns?"
"Yes," I said.
"And that earlier you conversed with Adrienne Herz?"
"Yes."
"Very well, my brave. I don't wish to hinder your social life or censor your movements, but as a practical matter you had better get your information on the colony from me."
"Why?"
"Because I am the only one who knows the complete story and can give you an impartial account. Certainly a notorious malcontent like Adorn is not a proper source. How long will you be on Turania?"
"Kubala says the tender will take off for the last time about thirty of your days hence. He has to pick up food and water — "
"Yes, yes, I know. I try to construct you a program that will occupy your time to best advantage. In that time you will not be able to visit Elysée."
"Hein?" I said. "But that's plenty of time, and I must go to Nouvelle-Arcadie! My employers would consider that I'd failed in my mission otherwise."
"Oh, you don't really want to go there. It's a miserable canoe trip. You will get drenched and seasick, and if the wind is contrary you may be unable either to go or to return when you wish. Furthermore, there is nothing on Nouvelle-Arcadie that you can't see here. The wild life on the island cannot compare with ours for size and variety."
"But I've got to! I must interview Vaud and his people."
"On the contrary, you'd get nothing from them but lies.
Vaud would give you a highly biased story of our break, justifying all his crimes and tyranny, while his people are too spineless and terrorized to tell you the truth."
"That may be, but I've got to try."
"No you don't. Your employers will never know the difference."
I said: "I'm in the habit of writing the truth as I see it."
"Be reasonable."
"I am reasonable. I have my duty —"
"You are just an obstinate young fool! It's a dangerous voyage."
"I'll take a chance."
"Not with my boats," he said. "When you come here, you put yourself under my jurisdiction. If I consider some act harmful to my people, I cannot let you do it."
I lost my temper. I know; a good correspondent wouldn't, but I never claimed to be a good anything. At that, I should probably have been too cowardly to speak out to the man if he hadn't been half my size. I stood up and shouted:
"You think you'll make me a prisoner here, just because I might hear something to your disadvantage, he? Well, let me tell you, monsieur —"
"Think you I will let you go to Elysée to tell Vaud all about us, so he can attack?" he shouted back.
"I'm a British subject and I'll go where I please."
"This isn't Britain and you shall do as I command."
"Command away, and we shall see," I said.
"None of my men shall take you to the island."
"Then I'll paddle there myself."
"You may not touch my boats. Build yourself a raft, or walk on the water." I was surprised to see tears in his eyes. "Everybody's against us: the Activists, and the Cimbrians, and now you. They hate us for our superior idealism. Go away, monster!"
I went, shaking, back to the guest house. Arthur Rama-swami was spending the night there and had a bottle of Turanian wine. We spent the evening drinking it and telling each other our troubles.
Next morning, I set out to interview the other Passivists. I also thought of promoting a secret trip to Nouvelle-Arcadie, perhaps by stealing one of the canoes. I don't know if I'd ever have been able to work up the courage.
I admire the rough-hewn swashbuckling heroes of romance who ruthlessly go after what they want in spite of God or man. Some people, deceived by my 250 pounds and rhinoceros-like build, mistake me for that kind of person. They don't know what a poor little mouse of an ego is cowering inside all that beef. I'm absurdly timid about laws and rules, perhaps because of my British associations.
When I tackled the first Passivist, he said: "Bon jour, Monsieur Fay," but when I tried to prolong the conversation he looked frightened and mumbled: "Je ne sais pas!"
When I tried others the same thing happened. They didn't know anything, or they had to hurry off to work ...
I found Adrienne and said: "Good-morning, Mademoiselle Herz."
"Good-morning, Monsieur Fay!" she said. "You slept well, I hope?"
"Are you speaking to me? Everybody else is giving me the silent treatment."
"Yes, President Motta has launched an order."
"I thought so. Holy-blue, that's a plain violation of the basic human rights, as guaranteed by the International Convention of —"
"But this isn't Earth," she reminded me. "Had you a terrible quarrel?"
"Bad enough. But couldn't we — ah — have a private talk somewhere?"
"Hm. I go for a swim after breakfast. I might swim north beyond the stockade, and, if a little later you happened along in the same direction, nobody would remark the coincidence."
I swam north parallel to the beach in leisurely fashion. Beyond the north end of the stockade was a swamp or estuary where a little stream emptied into the sea. Here a couple of Passivists were cutting a kind of reed or withe that grew here, and from which Liberté made its furniture. I kept on until I heard Adrienne calling:
"Monsieur Fay! Here!"
I walked ashore in Turanian costume and found her behind the first line of shrubbery. She put her. head out and looked back towards the stockade.
"Good," she said. "Nobody sees. Where would you like to go?"
I said: "If there's a trail up to some high point, so I could see the country ..."
"I know just such an animal trail."
We pushed through the brush, which scratched me cruelly but didn't seem to bother her, until she found the trail. It was wider than one would expect. She led me uphill away from the sea. I was soft from the space trip, despite my earnest exercises, and found the climb strenuous.
She trotted ahead like a deer. It was quiet except for the never-ending sough of the wind and the thrum of huge insects.
"Slow down!" I said. "Now, where were we? You were telling me how Vaud made all sorts of regulations, as that nobody should thee-and-thou him."
"Ah, yes. Next he tried to reintroduce clothes. The nudism had been one of his original principles, partly to avoid affectations and class distinction, partly because the temperature is always in the thirties" (she meant on the Centigrade scale) "except a few hours before dawn. So clothes are not necessary. But Vaud has decided that they would make us more decorous."
"Did they?"
"He had never succeeded, though he's persuaded his own faction to wear them on formal occasions like today. I think he designed that Scotch petticoat to hide his own potbelly, as he's not so pretty as when I was little.
"However, when all these changes had put the people in a state of violent agitation, Motta made a revolt. He had formed a secret club, the Passivists, dedicated to a return to first principles of simplicity, libertarianism, and voluntary co-operation. There was a great battle, with the men giving blows of fist and pulling the hair and the women pushing cries of encouragement.