Four months earlier a summons from the Kislar would have terrified him, but Bufesqueu was right, the man wasn’t a bad fellow. At the salons — he was no regular, and neither was Mills, but he came to their affairs perhaps once every three weeks, always on the afternoon preceding an evening when a virgin was scheduled to attend the Sultan — the Chief Eunuch was often the most amusing man there, outdoing Bufesqueu and Qum el Asel himself on the thorny philosophical points they so loved to raise. Nor was the sexual horseplay, though not proscribed, so much in evidence when the Kislar was there. Although the sexuality of these afternoons was even more forthright than any Mills had witnessed when the great eunuch was absent.
Ostensibly the love lessons — everything they did could be perceived as instruction; Mills was fascinated (when he wasn’t terrified), as he was by all protocols — were for the benefit of the young virgins among them. It fell to the women to tell these girls which things seemed most to please the Sultan, which parts of his body she was forbidden to kiss or to touch, which she was encouraged to, what obeisance she was required to make after he climaxed, what she must do to protect the Sultan’s skin from the blood or, if there were danger of spilled semen contacting his body, which remedial actions were permissible, which taboo. It seemed there were dozens of things for a virgin to remember, not the least of which was the virgin’s “tribute.” This was some new technique or position she was required to bring to his bed should the Sultan require it, some clever trick he’d never seen or heard of before. (Comprehensive lists, updated each time a new virgin paid a visit to the Sultan, were posted in all the dormitories in the harem, and it was an offense punishable by death if a virgin attempted to contribute something which another virgin had already offered. It did a girl no good to rely on the man’s faulty memory, since duplicates of all lists kept by the women were kept by the potentate.
“He old, honey,” Amhara might say. “He an old man. Likely he won’t do more than ask can you tell him your moves.”
“I’m not here,” the Chief Eunuch would explain, “to embarrass anyone. I’m here to choose one of you and I’m here to protect you. I don’t believe that women by nature are either more or less duplicitous than men. We’re only human, alas, and if I’m privy to these discussions it’s not, in this instance at least, prurience which draws me. Rather it’s my conviction, one or two steps up from belief, that the nature of any organization is built on the principle of self-interest. In a harem the natural enemy of a woman is another woman. The mothers are jealous of the favored ladies, the favored ladies are jealous of the novices, and everyone is jealous of the virgins. Only in sexual organizations like our own, you see, does the jealousy leak downward.
“I’m fairly certain you’ve already been briefed but suspicious enough to believe that it’s only because I was expected. If I didn’t show up on these occasions it wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibility that these ladies could fail to tutor you in what’s expected. You could fault tonight, you could die. In any event I trust a review can do no harm, and I enjoy our chalk talks. — Yoyu?”
“Sir?”
“Would you be kind enough to recite for Shariz the Prayer of Virgin Gratitude?”
So he followed Fatima.
In his office the Kislar Agha was speaking to a short man in a striped gown just long enough to trip over should he step rather than shuffle. He wore a small fez — it could have been cut for a child — from which the tassel had come loose. “Oh, Mills,” the eunuch interrupted himself, “come here a moment, would you?” And then to the man: “Show Mills, won’t you? Fatima’s right, he’s the one with whom you should be taking up this point. Thanks, Fatima, it was a good idea, your bringing Laundry into the discussion.”
“Laundry,” the man said, “you’ve seen one of these?” He produced a strange, toylike object from inside his caftan. “Now this is only what we call a ‘mock-up.’ It’s scale, however, and should give you a pretty good idea. In real life this particular item goes forty-five by sixty. You’ve seen this?”
Mills shook his head.
“No? See, Kislar Agha? Even Laundry ain’t seen nothing like it. It’s brand new but I’m not offering you no novelty item. I don’t take nothing away from novelty goods, but in Yildiz? They don’t look right in a palace, novelty goods. They’re a masses thing — kickshaw, straws and pins.”
“Get on with it, Guzo.”
Guzo? This? This was Guzo Sanbanna?
“I’m piquing his interest, Kislar. In my line you don’t get nowhere you don’t pique their interest. All right, Laundry, you want to take a guess what this mock-up is a mock-up of?” He handed Mills the model, which, now it was in his hands, he saw was actually two components, one on top of the other, the first a sort of cloth-covered frame, the second a thick rectangular pad which fit on it. “Can you guess? Remember, it’s only a model.”
Mills shook his head.
“I’ll give you a hint, Laundry. What’s the dimensions of your sheets?”
George shrugged.
“It’s a box spring and mattress!” Sanbanna said as if delivering a punchline.
“A box spring and mattress,” Mills repeated dully.
“You’ve never heard of mattresses?”
“Sure,” George said. “I’ve heard of mattresses.”
“Well the box spring fits under them! On a bed frame! It gives back support! You know, before the Industrial Revolution none of this would have been possible. Look — here, give me, I’ll show you, this cloth part snaps off — rows of coil springs! Just imagine what one of these could do for the backs of all those favored ladies you got around here. Or the novices. Or anyone else for that matter whose back takes a beating from time to time. Why, sleeping on one of these is like sleeping on a cloud! For the rest of your life you wake up refreshed!
“And I’ll tell you something else. With these new firm support mattresses there’s never any sag. You’re healthier, more cheerful. They put a spring in your step. They help keep you regular.”
Sanbanna lowered his voice. “The whores of Amsterdam, where this product was researched and developed under the supervision of the world’s most distinguished orthopedic scientists, the biggest men in the field, the whores of Amsterdam have been using these box spring and mattress sets on an experimental basis for months now. The incidence of pox has never been lower and some of the girls claim literally to have doubled their business. I can’t vouch for that part of course, but I saw the biggest smiles on those Dutchmen’s faces when I was up there last time. Ear-to-ear. I thought their damn faces were cracking. Here, you can look at my passport you don’t believe I was up there.” He shoved an Empire passport under Mills’s nose and snatched it back quickly. His lowered voice was laced with confidentiality. “Listen, I know the Sultan is no ordinary john. What, are you kidding? A carte blanche guy with the pick of the litter? I’ll let you in on something, Laundry. This is strictly a company store in a strictly company town and what makes its owner happy can’t help but trickle down and make some of its clerks happy too. Am I talking out of turn here, Kislar? Am I out of line on this?”
Mills looked at the Chief Eunuch.
“Guzo’s enthusiastic,” the Kislar Agha said, “but we’ve been doing business with him for years now.”
“Did I steer you wrong on the baby doll nighties? Did I steer you wrong on the filmy lingerie? Tell him, Kislar.”
“He’s not the purchasing agent, Guzo. He folds sheets in the laundry.”