"Our community free-house," explained the Zsafathran. "We are not so isolated as you might think. Thangs come by with their troupes and carts, or Bihasu peddlers, or wandering dignitaries like yourselves. All these we entertain at our free-house."
"Thangs? We must be close upon Cape Braise!"
"Is three hundred miles close? The Thangs are as pervasive as sandflies; they appear everywhere, more often than not when they are not wanted. Not too far is the great Thang town of Urmank ... You and your woman both are of a race strange to me. If the concept were not inherently ludicrous-but no, to postulate nonsense is to lose my dignity; I will hazard nothing."
"We are from a remote place," said Reith. "You have never heard of it."
The old man made a sign of indifference. "Whatever you like; provided that you observe the ceremonies, and pay your score."
"Two questions," said Reith. "What are the 'ceremonies,' and how much must we expect to pay as a daily charge?"
"The ceremonies are simple," said the Zsafathran. "An exchange of pleasantries, so to speak. The charges will be perhaps four or five sequins a day. Go ashore at the dock, if you will; then we must take your boat away, to discourage speculation should a Thang or a Bihasu pass by."
Reith decided to make no objection. He worked the boat to the dock, a construction of withe and reeds lashed to piles of ouingawood. The Zsafathran jumped from the boat, and gallantly helped Zap 210 to the dock, inspecting her closely as he did so.
Reith jumped ashore with a mooring line, which the Zsafathran took and passed on to a lad with a set of muttered instructions. He led Reith and Zap 210 through the white pavilion and into the great freehouse. "So here you are, take your ease. The cubicle yonder is at your service. Food and wine will be served in due course."
"We want to bathe," said Reith, "and we would appreciate a change of clothes if any such are available."
"The bathhouse is yonder. Fresh garments after the Zsafathran style can be furnished at a price."
"And the price?"
"Ordinary suits of gray furze for withe-cutting or tillage are ten sequins each.
Since your present garments are little better than rags, I recommend the expense."
"Under-linen is included in this price?"
"Upon a surcharge of two sequins apiece under-linen is furnished, and should you wish new sandals, each must pay five sequins additionally."
"Very well," said Reith. "Bring everything. We'll go first class while the sequins last."
CHAPTER SIX
WEARING THE SIMPLE gray smock and trousers of the Zsafathrans, Zap 210 looked somewhat less peculiar and conspicuous. Her black hair had begun to curl; exposure to wind and sun had darkened her skin; only her perfectly regular features and her brooding absorption with secret ideas now set her apart. Reith doubted, however, if a stranger would notice in her conduct anything more unusual than shyness.
But Cauch, the old Zsafathran, noticed. Taking Reith aside, he muttered in a confidential voice, "Your woman: perhaps she is ill? If you require herbs, sweat-baths or homeopathy, these are available, at no great cost."
"Everything at Zsafathra is a bargain," said Reith. "Before we leave we might owe more sequins than we carry. In this case, what would be your attitude?"
"Sorrowful resignation, nothing more. We know ourselves for a destiny-blasted race, doomed to a succession of disappointments. But I trust this is not to be the case?"
"Not unless we enjoy your hospitality longer than I presently plan."
"No doubt you will carefully gauge your resources. But again, what of the woman's condition?" He subjected Zap 210 to a critical scrutiny. "I have had some experience in these matters; I deem her peaked and listless, and somewhat morose. Beyond this, I am puzzled."
"She is an unfathomable person," Reith agreed.
"The description, if I may say so, applies to you both," said Cauch. He turned his owlish gaze upon Reith. "Well, the woman's morbidity is your affair, of course ... A collation has been served on the pavilion, which you are invited to join."
"At a small charge, presumably?"
"How can it be otherwise? In this exacting world only the air we breathe is free. Are you the sort to go hungry because you begrudge the outlay of a few bice? I think not. Come." And Cauch, urging them out upon the pavilion, seated them in withe chairs before a wicker table, then went off to instruct the girls who served from the buffet.
Cool tea, spice-cakes, stalks of a crisp red water-vegetable were set before them as a first course. The food was palatable, the chairs were comfortable; after the vicissitudes of the previous weeks the situation seemed unreal, and Reith was unable to subdue a nervous mannerism of looking warily this way and that. Gradually he relaxed. The pavilion seemed an idyll of peace. Gauzy fronds of the purple ouinga trailed low, exhaling an aromatic scent. Carina 4269 sprinkled dancing spots of dark gold light across the water. From somewhere beyond the free-house came the music of water-gongs. Zap 210 gazed across the pond in a reverie, nibbling at the food as if it lacked flavor. Becoming aware of Reith's attention she straightened primly in the chair.
"Shall I serve more of this tea?" asked Reith.
"If you like."
Reith poured from the bubble-glass jug. "You don't seem particularly hungry," he observed.
"I suppose not. I wonder if they have any diko."
"I'm sure that they have no diko," said Reith.
Zap 210 gave her fingers a petulant twitch.
Reith asked, "Do you like this place?"
"It is better than the vastness of the sea."
For a period Reith sipped his tea in silence. The table was cleared; new dishes were set before them: croquettes in sweet jelly; toasted sticks of white pith; nubbins of gray sea-flesh. As before Zap 210 showed no great appetite. Reith said politely, "You've seen something of the surface now. Is it different from your expectations?"
Zap 210 reflected. "I never thought to see so many motherwomen," she murmured, as if talking to herself.
"'Mother-women' ? Do you mean women with children?"
She flushed. "I mean the women with prominent breasts and hips. There are so many! Some of them seem very young: no more than girls."
"It's quite normal," said Reith. "As girls grow out of childhood, they develop breasts and hips."
"I am not a child," Zap 210 declared in an unusually haughty voice. "And I ..."
Her voice dwindled away.
Reith poured another mug of tea and settled back into his chair. "It's time," he said, "that I explained certain matters to you. I suppose I should have done so before. All women are mother-women."
Zap 210 stared at him incredulously. "This isn't the case at all!"
"Yes, it is," said Reith. "The Pnume fed you drugs to keep you immature: the diko, or so I imagine. You aren't drugged now and you're becoming normal-more or less. Haven't you noticed changes in yourself?"
Zap 210 sank back in her chair, dumbfounded by his knowledge of her embarrassing secret. "Such things are not to be talked about."
"So long as you know what's happening."
Zap 210 sat looking out over the water. In a diffident voice she asked, "You have noticed changes in me?"
"Well, yes. First of all, you no longer look like the ghost of a sick boy."
Zap 210 whispered, "I don't want to be a fat animal, wallowing in the dark. Must I be a mother?"