At this point in her dilemma Neysa and Flach visited. Brown’s relief at seeing them was immense. All the loneliness of her situation abated—and returned with added force with their departure, thought it was temporary. She needed advice from a friend, desperately.
“And now, if friend thou still dost be,” she concluded, “I lay on thee the burden o’ advice: what needs must be my course?”
Neysa, grazing as if unaffected by the narration, controlled the welter of her emotions. Her friend Brown—a woman’s woman? Desperately lonely, all these years? How could she, Neysa, have missed the signs?
They had to move those prisoners elsewhere! Yet if they did, thus abruptly, Purple and Tan might realize why. Also, where could they be moved? How could Neysa ask for this, without giving reason? She could not give reason, for she had given her oath of secrecy, which she would not abridge. And if she found some other pretext to move them out, what then of Brown, thrown into complete isolation again?
Then she caught a glimmer of a notion. She played a warning note on her horn, to advise Brown to dismount. Then she changed to woman form. “Methinks thou dost need out o’ this mess. An a need come for golems, many golems in a far corner, made from the wood there, thou couldst be called away, and some other put in charge o’ thy Demesnes for the interim.”
“But Neysa—“ Brown protested.
“I would break not mine oath! I would find other way to justify the project.”
“But what I needs must know—“
“No word o’ thy shame! It will be hidden.”
Brown paused. Then she nodded. “I thank thee, Neysa. An thou canst do that, my concern be eased.”
They walked back to the standing golem. Soon they were on their way back to the wooden castle, charging along under the starry sky.
Once Brown was safely home, Neysa set out for the Red Demesnes afoot, where she knew Flach would remain until she rejoined him. She ran well in her natural form, but not as fast as in her youth. Still, it was a pleasure; she had always liked to run. She remembered the old years, with Stile, and her hopeless love for him, never spoken. Later her filly-foal Fleta had done what Neysa had not dared do, and had openly loved a man. In late retrospect, Neysa could not say that was wrong. Sometimes secret love was better in the open.
And what of Brown’s secret love? The bitch Lycandi was dead, but the love she had indoctrinated Brown with remained. Neysa would help Brown win free of the trap the Adepts had put her into, but how could she free her from her secret shame? “No word o’ thy shame,” she had promised, and Brown had paused, then thanked her.
Why had there been that pause?
Neysa was not the cleverest of unicorns, and age was not improving her mind, but she normally figured things out in time. It was as if Brown had not been entirely satisfied with Neysa’s response. But it had been hard to be reassuring, when the shock of her discovery of Brown’s nature was new.
Then it came to her. Brown had wanted to know how she felt, and whether her friendship had suffered because of the revelation. And Neysa had answered without meaning to: “No word o’ thy shame.” Brown had hoped she could speak without sacrificing their friendship, and had been disappointed.
Yet now, too late, regretting what she had said, Neysa could not deny its truth. A curtain had dropped down between the two of them. How could true friendship survive the knowledge of what Brown was?
5 - Game
Lysander had to admit it was interesting. The child Nepe, who was also Flach, had shown him magic; Alyc was showing him science, and the things of the science frame. Most of the naked serfs were working, but many had free time, and they populated the lounges and the Game Annex. Since food and sex were free, their main entertainment seemed to be competitive games. That of course was a major interest for Lysander, too, but he hesitated to push it, lest Alyc be uninterested. His first job was to cement his relationship with her, so as to remain in Citizen Blue’s favor.
But after they ate—there were machines that dispensed anything desired that was healthy—and covered the premises, there wasn’t much to do. It was night, and though the halls had no closing, he was tiring. “I have had a long day,” he said. “It started on board a spaceship, and included an outdoor tour that had me talking to a unicorn, and now an indoor tour that has shown me more naked people than I thought existed. Is it possible to sleep?”
“The Citizen allocated a chamber for you,” she said. “But if you would like to join me in mine...”
He considered. Her incomplete sentence was evidently an ellipsis, and that meant that something significant had been omitted for his consideration. His preliminary briefing had made clear that whatever else occurred, when a man spent the night with an unrelated woman without other company, he was expected to indulge in copulation with her. If he did not wish to do so, he did not stay with her. His effort to dampen his reaction to her sexual attributes had been effective, and he had no inclination to get into human sex with her at this time. His brief handling of the harpy/cyborg’s legs had evoked temporary interest there, perhaps because Echo was a stranger; that was not the case with Alyc. But if he declined, she might be hurt or suspicious.
Perhaps he could talk his way out of it, this night. “I am new to this culture, and fear giving offense. I think I am not at this time ready for anything other than a night of sleep. May I decline the sharing of your residence without upsetting you?”
“Well, sure, of course,” she said, evidently disgruntled. “I mean, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, unless a Citizen says to. I just thought—“ She broke off. shrugging.
This wasn’t being easy. “I understand—please correct me if I am mistaken—that a man does not stay with a woman unless he copulates with her. I think I would like to do that with you, when I am less tired. So I feel I should not seek the pleasure of your company under false pretense.”
She was studiously gazing away from him, but she peeked. “You mean it’s not that you aren’t interested?”
He was getting it right! “By no means! It’s that where I come from, some experiences are best reserved for ideal conditions, rather than being squandered when things are imperfect.”
She thought about that, and it was evident that the longer she thought, the better she liked it. “Then, maybe, would you like to stay with me, and just sleep?”
“Why that would be very nice, if it is not an imposition.”
“Right this way!” She strode for home at a brisk rate.
Lysander followed, making a perceptual adjustment. He had abolished any sexual inclination by visualizing her as she was. That had to be modified now. So he schooled himself to see her as a human male would, blocking out his natural perception. For example, the way her plush buttocks flexed as she walked was supposed to be interesting and sexually appealing. A human male, contemplating that at length, was supposed to become sexually aroused, so that his copulatory member expanded—
Oops. Hastily he cut off the focus; obviously he had it right. He stared over her head, hoping that none of the other serfs had noticed. But it was evident that they had, and were amused. Well, amusement was harmless.
Alyc’s private chamber was pleasant enough. She had a body-cleaning alcove, a video screen, and a foam bed. “Clean up and lie down,” she told him. “I’ll watch the show.”
Lysander stepped into the alcove, while Alyc lay on her bed and watched the screen. There was some kind of entertainment program on, resounding with people slipping and falling, getting whacked on their posteriors, and loudly protesting indignities. Alyc laughed, evidently enjoying it. He would have to study her reactions, so as to key in the normal human pattern. There was much his training had not properly prepared him for.