“Yes,” said Odeen, with conviction. “He is.”
“Then oughtn’t your triad include an unusual Emotional?”
“There are many ways of being unusual,” said Odeen, thoughtfully. “In some ways, Dua’s odd ways displease Tritt and worry me. May I consult you?”
“Always.”
“She is not fond of—of melting.”
Losten listened gravely; to all appearances unembarrassed.
Odeen went on. “She is fond of melting when we melt, that is, but it is not always easy to persuade her to do so.”
Losten said, “How does Tritt feel about melting? I mean, aside from the immediate pleasure of the act? What does it mean to him besides pleasure?”
“The children, of course,” said Odeen. “I like them and Dua likes them, too, but Tritt is the Parental. Do you understand that?” (It suddenly seemed to Odeen that Losten couldn’t possibly understand all the subtleties of the triad.)
“I try to understand,” said Losten. “It seems to me, then, that Tritt gets more out of melting than melting alone. And how about yourself? What do you get out of it besides the pleasure?”
Odeen considered. “I think you know that. A kind of mental stimulation.”
“Yes, I know that, but I want to make sure you know. I want to make sure you haven’t forgotten. You have told me often that when you come out of a period of melting, with its odd loss of time—during which I admit I sometimes didn’t see you for rather long periods—that suddenly you found yourself understanding many things that had seemed obscure before.”
“It was as though my mind remained active in the interval,” said Odeen. “It was as though there was time which, even though I was unaware of its passing and unconscious of my existence, was necessary to me; during which I could think more deeply and intensely, without the distraction of the less intellectual side of life.”
“Yes,” agreed Losten, “and you’d come back with a quantum-jump in understanding. It is a common thing among you Rationals, though I must admit no one improved in such great jumps as you did. I honestly think no Rational in history did so.”
“Really?” said Odeen, trying not to seem unduly elated.
“On the other hand, I may be wrong”—and Losten seemed slightly amused at the other’s sudden loss of shimmer—“but never mind that. The point is that you, like Tritt, get something out of the melt beside the melt itself.”
“Yes. Most certainly.”
“And what does Dua get out of the melt besides the melt?”
There was a long pause. “I don’t know,” said Odeen.
“Have you never asked her?”
“Never.”
“But then,” said Losten, “if all she gets out of a melt is the melt, and if you and Tritt get out of it the melt plus something else, why should she be as eager for it as you two are?”
“Other Emotionals don’t seem to require—” began Odeen, defensively.
“Other Emotionals aren’t like Dua. You’ve told me that often enough and, I think, with satisfaction.”
Odeen felt ashamed. “I had thought it might be something else.”
“What might that be?”
“It’s hard to explain. We know each other in the triad; we sense each other; in some ways, all three of us are part of a single individual. A misty individual that comes and goes. Mostly it’s unconscious. If we think about it with too great a concentration, we lose it, so we can never get real detail. We—” Odeen stopped rather hopelessly. “It’s hard to explain the triad to someone—”
“Nevertheless, I am trying to understand. You think you have caught a portion of Dua’s inner mind; something she has tried to keep secret, is that it?”
“I’m not sure. It is the vaguest impression, sensed with a corner of my mind just now and then.”
“Well?”
“I sometimes think Dua doesn’t want to have a baby-Emotional.”
Losten looked at him gravely. “You only have two children so far, I think. A little-left and a little-right.”
“Yes, only two. The Emotional is difficult to initiate, you know.”
“I know.”
“And Dua will not trouble to absorb the necessary energy. Or even try to. She has any number of reasons but I can’t believe any of them. It seems to me that for some reason she just doesn’t want an Emotional. For myself—if Dua really didn’t want one for a while—well, I would let her have her way. But Tritt is a Parental, and he wants one; he must have one; and somehow I can’t disappoint Tritt, not even for Dua.”
“If Dua had some rational cause for not wanting to initiate an Emotional, would that make a difference with you?”
“With me, certainly, but not with Tritt. He doesn’t understand such things.”
“But would you labor to keep him patient?”
“Yes, I would, for as long as I could.”
Losten said, “Has it occurred to you that hardly any Soft Ones”—here he hesitated as though searching for a word and then he used the customary Soft-One phrase—“ever pass on before the children are born—all three, with the baby-Emotional last.”
“Yes, I know.” Odeen wondered how Losten could possibly think him ignorant of so elementary a bit of knowledge.
“Then the birth of a baby-Emotional is equivalent to the coming of time to pass on.”
“Usually, not till the Emotional is old enough—”
“But the time for passing on will be coming. Might it not be that Dua does not want to pass on?”
“How can that be, Losten? When the time comes to pass on, it is as when the time comes to melt. How can you not want to?” (Hard Ones didn’t melt; perhaps they didn’t understand.)
“Suppose Dua simply wants never to pass on? What would you then say?”
“Why, that we must pass on eventually. If Dua merely wants to delay the last baby, I might humor her and even persuade Tritt to, perhaps. If she wants never to have it— that simply cannot be allowed.”
“Why so?”
Odeen paused to think it out. “I can’t say, Losten-sir, but I know we must pass on. I know it more and feel it more with each cycle, and sometimes I almost think I understand why.”
“You are a philosopher, I sometimes think, Odeen,” said Losten dryly. “Let’s consider. By the time the third baby comes and grows, Tritt will have had all his children and can look forward to passing on after a fulfilled life. You yourself will have had the satisfaction of much learning and you, too, can pass on after a fulfilled life. But Dua?”
“I don’t know” said Odeen, wretchedly. “Other Emotionals cling together all lifelong and seem to get some pleasure out of chattering with each other. Dua, however, will not do that.”
“Well, she is unusual. Is there nothing she likes?”
“She likes to listen to me talk about my work,” mumbled Odeen.
Losten said, “Well, don’t be ashamed of that, Odeen. Every Rational talks about his work to his right and his mid. You all pretend you don’t, but you all do.”
Odeen said, “But Dua listens, Losten-sir.”
“I’m quite sure she does. Not like other Emotionals. And does it ever seem to you that she understands rather better after a melt?”
“Yes, I have noticed that at times. I didn’t particularly pay any attention, though—”
“Because you are sure Emotionals can’t really understand these things. But there seems to be considerable of the Rational in Dua.”
(Odeen looked up at Losten with sudden consternation. Once Dua had told him of her childhood unhappiness; only once; of the shrill calls of the other Emotionals; of the filthy name they had called her—Left-Em. Had Losten heard of that, somehow?... But he was only looking calmly at Odeen.)