"Then if we can't dig our way out, and we can't count on a rescue from Novorecife, we may be here indefinitely!"
"Precisely, my dear. If the Heshvavu were old, we might at least hope to outlive him; but that's not the case."
"I'm trying to think ahead. Maybe the only way we'll ever get out is to do what Khorosh wants."
"Seriously?" said Mjipa. "I'd call that a last, desperate resort. You wouldn't want to trust a native midwife or medico. Besides, what should we do with the infant?"
"You'd be welcome to it. I don't intend to let motherhood interfere with my career."
"You might change your mind, once you had the little nipper. But my wife would raise bloody hell, especially if I brought home a half-breed baby for her to raise. We baMangwato have a prejudice in favor of pure black ancestry, even though one of the Kgamas married an English girl."
"I heard them speak of you in Novorecife as Percy the henpecked hero," said Alicia with a malicious little smile.
"God damn it!" Mjipa exploded."It's nothing of the sort.
Vicky and I have our differences, like all married couples. But we get along; been doing so for decades. By the way, what's your status? Married, divorced, or what?"
"I've never been married, so you were right in calling me 'Miss Dyckman'."
"Oh, well then, I couldn't possibly consider deflowering a virgin—"
"Who said anything about virginity? I've had experience; not much, but enough to disqualify me."
"Oh?" said Mjipa. "What happened?"
"Percy! I'm no prude; but you're not my shrink, and I don't discuss my personal affairs with everybody."
"Oh. Sorry."
"It's all right. Tell me some of your experiences as consul."
"I shall be glad to, but first I've got to get in touch with my Krishnans—the ones I hired in Kalwm City. They'll be wondering what's happened to me."
Mjipa went to the door and pounded. Presently the shutter outside the little window slid aside, and a helmeted Krishnan face looked in. In a loud, commanding voice, Mjipa said: "In the name of the Terran World Federation, of whom I am a diplomatic representative, I demand to see the Heshvavu!"
The shutter snapped back into place. Mjipa returned to the bench, muttering: "If that doesn't fetch somebody in an hour, I'll really raise hell."
"Be careful," said Alicia. "If you get obstreperous, they may discipline you. They wouldn't balk at starving, flogging, or mutilating you."
"You can't let these beggars think you're afraid of them, no matter what," said Mjipa. "While we're waiting, I'll tell you about that French con man, Felix Borel. He ended up shy of a head, too ..."
Mjipa was well into the tale of Borel the swindler when he heard the bolts withdrawn. The door opened, and in came a small, plump Krishnan with green stars painted all over him, followed by three guards with swords drawn. The civilian said:
"Good-day, Master Mjipa and Mistress Dyckman. I am Khateluts, the ..." He gave a long title of whose meaning Mjipa could not be sure; but the consul thought it meant Third Assistant Secretary for Foreign Affairs. "The guard told me ye demanded His Awesomeness to see. That cannot be. The Heshvavu issues demands; he accepts them not from others. If ye have aught to say, utter it unto me."
"I need to get a message to the men I brought from Kalwm," said Mjipa. "They are quartered in the town, awaiting orders."
"Nay, that is impossible. We are commanded to cut you off from the outer world, so that ye shall devote your minds to your part in the Heshvavu's great experiment."
"You have no right to keep an accredited diplomat from communicating with his government! What sort of barbarism is that?"
"Good my sir, your rights here are what the Heshvavu says they are."
"Then tell the Heshvavu his experiment cannot proceed while the subjects are locked up. The Terran sexual act requires freedom and contentment, or it doesn't take place. So Khorosh is defeating his own ends."
"I will pass the word; but I warn you 'twill achieve nought. He avers that, since all Terrans are notorious bars, nought they say shall be given weight. And now I bid you good-morn. May your livers be light!"
The Assistant Secretary withdrew, leaving Mjipa and Alicia staring. The latter said: "Now what? What will your people do when they don't hear from you?"
Mjipa shrugged. "I suppose they'll hang around for a few days, then light out for home. Minyev has enough money to buy food and supplies for the trip. So I might as well finish the sad story of Felix Borel ..."
The following night, as dark came on and the bijars swooped through the gardens in pursuit of the Krishnan equivalent of insects, a couple of the Heshvavu's servants set up a pair of lanterns in the garden outside the barred terrace.
They set them far enough from the bars so that Mjipa, even with a pole, could not have reached them. They cast a wan light, crisscrossed with the shadows of the bars, through the detention chamber.
The next day, Mjipa demanded to see Khateluts again. When the official appeared, the consul asked: "Why have you people put those lanterns in the garden? They interfere with our sleep."
"Ye will wax accustomed to them," said Khateluts. 'They were installed for two reasons. First, we heard you moving about in the dark the first night. We could not see, but we suspicioned ye sought a weak spot in our barriers, whereby to escape. Second, in total darkness we cannot see whether ye twain be obeying my sovran lord's behest and copulating."
Mjipa argued, but to no avail. The lanterns remained a constant factor in their captivity, save for one night when the Zhamanacian whose duty it was forgot to light them. Mjipa could hear the swish and crack of the whip and the yells of the culprit as the Krishnan was punished elsewhere in the gardens.
Days crawled by. To pass the time, the prisoners told their life stories, and the stories of their friends and kinsmen. Mjipa said:
"There's nothing odd about my speaking English without an accent. We spoke it at home, though they taught us Setswana in school. You know, priceless cultural heritage and that sort of thing. I don't speak Setswana well, because the only times I used it were when we visited our relatives in the back country."
When they had exhausted other topics, the conversation again worked its way around to the prisoners' love lives. Mjipa said: "I hope I'm not a voyeur like our royal host, but you might as well tell me. We have nothing else to do in this damned native borstal."
After a pause, Alicia said: "All right. Under the circs, I suppose ... When I was a freshman, I was engaged to a young man; but he was a neo-Puritan, so we never went further than a little necking on the sofa. Then he graduated and got a job in Burma, and the next I heard he'd married a Burmese girl.
"After a while, I naturally began dating around. After a year of being propositioned on every date and saying 'no,' I thought I'd better find out what I'd been missing—whether it was really as heavenly as the men said. So I let a senior take me to his room. But it was a disappointment. He must have been hardly more experienced than I, because he went off on the first stroke, leaving me all undressed up and no place to go.
"Next morning he went at it again, and this time he did work me up to a climax. But my feeling was, gosh, is this all? It's not unpleasant, but hardly worth skipping a class for.
"There was one more. When I was getting my doctorate, a professor who was to audit my oral let me know that, if I wanted my degree, I'd better 'treat him right', Well, I thought, maybe this guy, being older and more experienced, can furnish some of that ecstasy I hear about. But the old goat was no improvement on the college boy. He had a bad breath and a potbelly, and he went off before I was ready. When he tried a second time, he went limp before he could get it in. So I decided that sex was all very fine to carry on the species, but it didn't interest me."