Hayseed had somehow fashioned a garland for her to place on his absent head. It was another song of love lost, a favorite type with unmarried girls. Some were happily crying.
The minstrel show continued from there, delivering full measure. Again Opaline was the envy of the girls, any of whom would gladly have changed places with her.
But she remained disquieted. There was too much she did not know about this man. It would be better to have it out, so she could make some sort of decision based on full information.
"Hayseed," she said, as she prepared their evening meal.
"Perhaps you are ready now," he said. "I can tell you the whole truth about me and about the mission. That will not be the whole truth about you or the planet, but perhaps it will suffice."
She laughed. "I already know about me. I'm a fifth. That's why I have no prospects at home."
He was expressionless. "Assume I do not know what a fifth is. Tell me."
She humored him, having become halfway accustomed to his odd little ways. "My parents lost one of their four children. Not the fourth—you understand?"
"Tell me."
"Each family must have four children, one of which is begotten by a man outside the family, to keep the species mixed. My parents did that. My brother was their fourth. He was different from the others, not just because he had a different father."
"Empathy."
"Question?"
"I am a fourth. So is my wife."
"So you do know about that. Why make me tell you?"
"Fourths are known. Fifths are less known. Continue."
Somewhat unsettled, she resumed. "Then their first child was killed in an accident, and they were down to three.
My mother did not want to birth another child, however conceived; she had been ill with the last and feared for her health. So they adopted me from the orphanage as a fifth. We are all alike in one respect: our orange eyes." She widened her eyes as she faced him, so he could see their color. "We are ordinary, neither smart nor stupid, handsome or ugly, talented or ill favored. We are just—there. But there are those who don't like us, because we are said to be unnatural, so we tend to be shunned. No boy of Sourberry would marry me, so we knew I would have to go elsewhere, lest I be single at eighteen. We hoped it would be different at Triumph City."
"It would be," Hayseed agreed. "But you will have another choice. I believe you are ideal for the mission."
"I don't want a mission, I want love and fulfillment!" she exclaimed angrily.
"This can be yours, if you choose."
"If I choose! You won't even touch me!"
"Opaline, there is something you omitted about fifths. Maybe you do not know it. Fifths are created to be very affectionate, once awakened."
"Question?"
"They have a high libido. They like sex. But not in the manner of other folk. They must satisfy their partners first. Only then can they enjoy it for themselves. They do not masturbate. So they make ideal sexual partners, always willing, always obliging."
"This is not something I would know about, yet," she said, somewhat taken aback. No one had ever discussed such a matter with her before, and she had never really thought about sex, only her need to have a relationship.
Which perhaps confirmed what he said: she was as yet unawakened. But he had already awakened in her the desire to discover the rest of it. "Is there anything else I should know?"
"Affirmation. As far as we know, fifths do not age like others. That is, they don't get fat, or diseased; they just get slowly older. When you are fifty, your peers of the village will be unattractive because of the inevitable ravages of age.
You will be a handsome slender woman with a full head of hair and clear skin. In fact you will be prettier than you are now, if you are in a loving relationship with lots of sex. Your emotional satisfaction will have a physical benefit. Men may not seek you now, but you will never lack for male companionship in your age."
She stared at him. "You know this?"
"I believe this. There are no fifths beyond age 30 so we can't be sure, but that is the indication. A smart man would choose you over the village beauty, knowing that you would be far more rewarding both in the short term and long term."
Her mind seemed to be spinning. "I didn't know."
"It is one reason I selected you for the mission. You could make this man very happy for a long time."
"He is simple!"
"He is handsome."
"I want to marry someone smarter than I am, because I know I am not smart."
"You are smart enough. A smart man can be devious, as I am."
She nodded. "He could toy with my affections, as you do."
"And could never be completely loyal to you, even if he married you."
That shook her. She knew it was true. "What else is there about fifths?"
"They seem to be synthetic."
"Question?"
"Made in a laboratory, rather than birthed by any woman. That is why they are so similar to each other, varying only in minor details like hair color or facial features. Any other fifth girl your age could fit your clothing."
"But I'm alive!"
"Affirmation. But not natural, in that respect"
"You needed an unnatural girl for your mission?"
He raised his hands as if fending off a barb. "I needed a persistent, loyal, reasonably pretty girl who did not aspire to great things."
"Appreciation for that candor," she said sourly. "How did this—laboratory—come about?"
"We believe that a secret machines ship landed the original culture, perhaps in a protected casing, thirty or more years ago. Unknowing humans could have been encouraged to develop it, setting up a baby mill. It's a fair business for them; the babies they provide are exactly as represented."
"Machines?"
"Our enemy. Sentient and sapient. That is, they are not alive, but they are conscious and smart. They are on a campaign to destroy the living cultures of the galaxy."
"And I derive from them?" she demanded, appalled.
"You are not responsible for the background of your origin. You are a living human being, loyal to your family and your culture."
"But still unnatural," she said distastefully.
"You may nevertheless achieve a great thing."
"By encouraging a man to move an acorn half an inch?"
"By saving our world from subjugation or destruction."
"Disbelief!" He gazed at her compassionately. "Perhaps we have covered enough for tonight."
"It has all been about me! We haven't even started on you."
"Affirmation. I am worse." She considered that, and decided he was right: she had had enough for the day. "Tomorrow, as we walk, you will tell me about you."
"Agreed."
"All about you."
"Affirmation."
There it was. He would tell her. The mystery of him would be fathomed. But she had learned enough to believe him when he said she might not want to be with him once she knew.
"Favor," she said.
"I will sleep with you tonight," he agreed. "As a brother."
"Naked."
He hesitated. "I would be aroused."
"And not able to exploit it."
He laughed. "You mean to torture me!"
"All night. If, as you say, I am unable to have any joy of sex until my partner does, it will serve you right for awakening me."
He sighed. "As you decree."
They did sleep together, naked, and he was aroused. She plastered herself against his erect member, satisfied.
She had as much of him as was possible, and remained pristine. There was a certain satisfaction in that. But it did seem to confirm another thing he had said about her nature: she was not even interested in having any joy of sex until first he did. Her interest was in arousing and satisfying him. Only when he was in the throes of orgasm deep within her would she care to explore her own capabilities in that respect. She had to have his passion first, to be fulfilled.