Each session caused Con to conjecture on other matters as well. She came to believe that her captors were also con-cerned with business that did not involve her, since they vis-ited infrequently. After they used holographic images and maps to question her about the last location of the airplane and the time machine, she thought they were sent to retrieve them. Later, when they grilled her about the observatory, she decided they were investigating that also. The most puzzling interrogation also proved to be the last. It was concerned with Con's plans after the vacation and the repercussions of her father's demise. Most of their questions involved public rec-ords. Con found herself explaining about such things as wills and diplomas and also about the different forms of media coverage. It was the first time they showed any interest in twenty-first-century society. As always, they did not explain why. When Con awoke the following day, the food cube was already on her bed. She did not see her captors the entire day, nor did they appear the following one. As disconcerting as the interrogations had been, their cessation was even more so. She still knew nothing about what had happened to Rick. As the slow hours passed, her concern for him became an obsession.
"Only that colored thing keeps me from him," she said to herself. "Only a little pain." She approached the colonnade and saw the colors turn angrily intense. She halted a half a foot away. "I can do this." Her skin tingled unpleasantly as she gathered up her resolve. Thinking of Rick, she gritted her teeth and stepped forward.
The flash of pain was excruciating and overwhelming. Con screamed and fell writhing to the floor. Only a portion of her foot passed through the colored plane, but agony rapidly boiled throughout her body. The torment was exquisite and all-encompassing. It became her only reality as she moaned and shook spasmodically on the floor. Gradually, the pain subsided until she recovered the presence of mind to examine her foot. It hurt so intensely she expected to find only a charred stump. Despite the searing pain, it appeared un-scathed. She crawled away from the colonnade and curled up into a ball, too drained to climb onto the bed. As the pain faded to a dull ache, someone entered the room.
"I do not understand your behavior," said the woman. She stood over Con, gazing at her with a puzzled expression. "You understand the nature of the barrier. Why did you at-tempt to cross it? It was not a rational act."
Con smiled ruefully. "No, I guess it wasn't."
"You have not answered my question."
"I wanted to see Rick."
"I said contact would come after satisfactory sessions."
"I answered all your questions, and then you stopped com-ing," protested Con.
"My colleagues have the information they require," the woman stated, "but I still need information for my own stud-ies."
Con sighed. "What do you want to know?"
"It concerns the male."
"Rick?" said Con eagerly. "Will you let me see him?"
The woman ignored Con's question. "Was your irrational behavior associated with the condition you called 'love'?"
"Isn't that evident?" asked Con.
"No," stated the woman. 'Tell me more about this con-dition."
"Don't you people have the same emotion?"
"I cannot discuss ourselves with you."
"Why not?"
"I cannot discuss that either. You must answer my ques-tion."
"But surely you know about love from our literature and art. Your museums must be full of information."
"There are discontinuities in the record," the woman stated.
"This is a basic human emotion!"
The woman looked annoyed. "Why do you persist in evad-ing my question?" Although the implications of the woman's statements dis-turbed Con, she knew it was unwise to ask more questions. Instead, she tried to frame a satisfactory reply. "Love is so central to our culture, I thought you'd know about it."
"You wanted to be with the male nineteen days ago," stated the woman. "Why are you still interested?"
"Why am I still interested?!" said Con, perplexed by the question. "I love him, that's why."
"I do not understand your response," said the woman. "You said earlier that love is an emotion involved with mat-ing."
"I said it had something to do with it," replied Con, feeling flustered. The woman started to lean forward as if she were going to touch her forehead to Con's, but then halted.
"You forget," said Con. "I have an inaccessible mind." The woman smiled slightly. It was the first time Con had ever seen that expression on her face. "Love is a complicated feeling," she continued, "and while it has something to do with mating, it involves much more. When two people are in love, they want to be together. They need to be together. It makes them feel complete and happy. Love can last a lifetime."
"So it is not periodic?" asked the woman.
"Periodic?"
"Is it not determined by your ovulation cycle?"
"Are you asking me if I go into heat?" said Con with disgust. "Only animals do that." The woman's face colored, and Con immediately sensed she had said something wrong. "Then, I am to understand." said the woman, more coldly than before, "that you are con-tinuously in a state of 'heat' as you call it?"
Con tried to sound calm. "We Homo sapiens don't think of mating in that way."
"Yet you said love is central to your culture."
"It is," replied Con, "but some of it's private, too. It's hard to explain."
"You must try," said the woman.
Why must I? thought Con. Then, she answered her own question. So I can see Rick. "We separate our lives into pri-vate and public parts. When people fall in love, they usually tell their friends. If they get married, it becomes part of the public record. How they express that love is often private. Mating is a private part." Con looked at the woman, trying to determine if she was satisfied with her explanation. She could see growing impatience in her interrogator's face.
The woman stepped away abruptly. "You may see the male, this 'Rick,' as you call him." The woman said something in her language, and the bar-rier vanished from between the columns. Con peered at the dark world beyond without truly seeing it. All she could think about was Rick.
"I will show you the way," said the woman.
Con followed, barefoot in the snow, to the room that used to be her father's and Sara's. The multicolored plane between the columns vanished at the woman's command to reveal Rick seated on the bed, staring despondently at the floor. With a shriek of joy, Con ran to him. Rick rose to meet her and they embraced.
"Rick! Rick! Rick!" sobbed Con. "I missed you so much."
"I missed you, too," said Rick. He softly touched Con's face and rejoiced in her nearness. They kissed and, for a long while, they spoke only the silent language of love. When Con eventually glanced toward the woman, she discovered that the colored barrier was back between the columns. They were alone.