“Yes, N’vet.”
“Take him to the Gen compound, and put him to work in the morning.” Yahn would have a year to earn his life… and if he did, he would then be given a name. Meanwhile, he was a nameless Gen like all the rest.
Chills went through Rimon despite the warm night. What if I’d been Gen instead of Sime? Would my father do that to me? He shook off the thought, but it persisted. It can happen to anybody. Father had only one heir– until Uncle Ryin died and Zeth came to live with us. When Zeth changed over, Father knew there would be one Farris to carry on. But I’m Sime, too, and I’m his son… .
And surely Zeth is olive!
But the next day Zeth’s drained body was brought in, and everyone knew: Rimon was different.
When the hope was gone, Rimon could not face the Gen they tried to tempt him with. He would no sooner touch Gen skin than he would collapse, his selyn currents in chaos. His father and Mama tried until he went into convulsions before they finally gave up and took the Gen away. He lay there, waiting to die… hoping to die. How could he ever kill again, after killing Zeth? No one wanted to look at him… until Kadi appeared with trin tea laced with apricot nectar. Her childish nager held no reproach—and no pity. There was true sympathy in it, and love. She had no tentacles—and yet she was not Gen. Somehow that was enough for Rimon, and as he drank the tea he managed for the first time to tell someone the complete story—a healing outpouring of the pain bottled up in him ever since Zeth had dropped lifeless from his grasp.
“Kadi, I wasn’t going to kill him. I know I wasn’t going to kill him! I didn’t want to hurt—only when he tried to get away—something happened inside me. I—I—it was awful.”
She crawled into bed with him, then, holding him for warmth as they had often shared a bedroll on camping trips. She had a child’s body and a child’s nager. But she believed him. She understood—and that was everything Rimon had to have at that moment.
Even with Kadi’s help, Rimon almost died of attrition before finally, on the fourth try, he completed the kill of a Gen presented to him. That kill, and every subsequent one, became a reliving of Zeth’s death under his tentacles.
Guilt, everyone said. But everyone knew, too, the awful fact that tormented him every month: Rimon is different.
Now, four years later, Kadi was helping him through it again. He didn’t know what it was about her field, weak as it was, that soothed him even when he was most tormented. Slowly, he came out of the past, drew a deep, shuddering breath, and brushed his lips lightly, gratefully, over her forehead. Kadi pulled away to study his face, then took his hands and slid her fingers up around his arms, turning her face up to him for a full lip-lip contact. “Come on, Rimon. It will help.”
He took her in full attack position, joining his lips to hers in a brief, glancing contact, and then withdrew, sheathing his tentacles. He sighed, deeply. “You always know what to do for me. I’m always afraid to do it.”
Kadi kicked the swing into motion, working the tensions out of herself .with the rhythmic jerking of her thigh muscles. “If you’re in the mood to take orders, I’ll tell you what to do for yourself next.”
“What?” asked Rimon, stopping the swing with his long legs.
“Tell me about it, exactly what happened tonight. I saw your father. I know it was something pretty bad, because he was worried—but also hopeful.”
“Dad, worried? Sure. He gave me one of his best Gens —and he’s afraid it won’t work.”
“Well, did it?”
For a long moment, Rimon stared off into the distance, remembering. “I don’t know, Kadi. In a way it was… good. But—I can’t do it again. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to face a kill again. I felt so sick—afterwards. I still do.”
“What did he give you—one that knew you?”
“Of course not. But, Kadi—the kid—spoke to me. He begged me not to kill him. Begged. And the more he begged, the better it was. His fear—it was horrible and it was wonderful, and I hate myself. It was like Zeth—only better, do you understand? What am I, Kadi?”
She stroked his tentacles. “You’re Sime. That’s a very proud and beautiful thing to be, and I love you for it.”
He turned and took her by the shoulders. “Could you love me if you were Gen and I was in need?” As he spoke, he let his tentacles touch her neck. “Could you love me then, Kadi? Or would you fear?”
“Don’t be silly. Gens aren’t human. They don’t know the meaning of love.”
“But if they did? What would happen if a Gen didn’t fear?”
She shook her head. “You always talk this way when it gets to you. Rimon, look at Nerob—when he was a kid he was normal enough, but now look at him. Fear is a Gen’s nature. The fear is there because the Sime is attracted by it—attracted to his selyn, like—like a flower’s smell attracts bees. It’s all part of nature.”
“Is it? Well, when you’ve changed over, maybe I’ll be able to show you what I mean.”
“I only wish that would happen soon!”
“It could be any time. Maybe tomorrow…”
“No. When I took his dinner in, your father checked. There’s still no sign of changeover.” He felt her anxiety, understood very well why she should be anxious—despite all her courage, she would face a very rough changeover at her age… if she survived it.
But then her mood shifted. “I’m just impatient,” she said. “I want to be your wife, Rimon, and… you know what? Your father approves.”
“He said so?” Rimon was surprised—not that he expected his father to make any objection to Kadi as the daughter of indentured servants—after all, the Morcots had worked that off years ago—but that he should express positive approval was unusual indeed.
“Yes. He actually said, ‘I hope it works out.’ That’s an awful lot from your father, you know.”
“I know!” But then, what other woman would have Rimon? His father would want grandchildren… oh, that was almost funny. He held Kadi close, trying to convince himself that once she changed over, she would be able to attract him as no other woman could. Despite four years with never a hint of sexual desire, he somehow believed that Kadi could do it. Well, she had saved his sanity– maybe his life—many times in the first months after his changeover. If she could handle him that way. when she was only a child, what would she be as a grown woman?
His thoughts were interrupted by a disturbance in the ambient nager. He stood up, startled, searching the west road against the setting sun. Kadi stood beside him. “What is it?”
“Wagon coming. Gens—”
“What’s wrong, Rimon?”
“Don’t know—Nerob there, I think—alone in the wagon. He’s left his crew out there unsupervised? No, he’s not alone!”
Rimon began to run for the big house, shouting for his father. Kadi followed him through the hallway, past Farris’ office where the older man joined them, and out onto the front porch, down, and across the yard.
The wagon pulled to a stop, horses blowing. Nerob got down from the seat, breathless, incoherent. “Tuib Farris—I tried to stop them. Soon as I saw—I got him away —best I could—Tuib Farris, don’t—”
“Quiet!” ordered Farris as he and Rimon bent over the bruised and bloody form on the flatbed.
Rimon said, “Shen and shid! Don’t you know better than to move a Sime in changeover?”
Farris vaulted into the wagon, probing the injured Sime. “It’s not as bad as it looks. He’s close to breakout. Here, you men, get Findel into the infirmary. Then go down to the holding Pen and cut out that male with the deformed foot.”
In moments, men were scurrying everywhere, preparing to welcome a new Sime into the world. As the confusion cleared, Farris turned to Nerob, who had caught his breath.
“Let’s hear it!”
“We were loading the last wagon, getting ready to come in for the night. Findel was missing. I had the men spread out and search—he couldn’t have gone far. We heard a commotion—s
ome of the men had found Findel in the irrigation ditch, helpless like that. Couple of my crew are out-Territory. They started it, and the rest went along– trying to beat him to death. I lit into one of the ringleaders—Klauf, knocked him down, grabbed Findel and ran for it.”
“So you moved a Sime in changeover.” Farris’ tone was menacing, but his nager betrayed only curiosity. Rimon looked to the Gen, who was sweating.
“I’m sorry, Tuib Farris, but I couldn’t hold off a mob. I figured it was either psychospatial disorientation or being beaten to death. This way he may hate me, but at least he’ll live.”
Farris considered that. “Hmmm. Quick thinking—shrewd thinking, for a Gen. I don’t have many Gens capable of making that kind of decision.” He paused, glancing at Rimon. “Nerob, name your reward.”
Taken completely aback, Nerob dropped his gaze. “Why —I—wouldn’t know…”
“Is there, perhaps, some particular female you fancy?”
Nerob’s head came up. His eyes turned to Kadi. Rimon heard through rising fury, “Tuib Farris, if you would, I have always wanted Kadi.”
Rimon stepped forward, wanting to strike the Gen. “You brazen—!”
Farris stopped him with one warning tentacle. “Nerob, that was entirely inappropriate. Kadi is still a child.”
“Then—if—it is ever appropriate,” said the Gen, eyes downcast, visibly trembling at his own audacity, “if ever it can be, I want her as my only reward.” Again he met her eyes for one quick flashing glance.
Kadi’s skin crawled, and though her nager had little power, both Rimon and his father turned at her reaction.
Farris said, “I will keep this request of yours in mind, Nerob. You may go now and collect your crew. See to their injuries and bed them securely. Any more—trouble of any sort, and you may lose claim to any reward.”
Rimon watched in disbelief as the Gen wheeled the wagon about and drove into the red sunset. Farris hadn’t said no. He hadn’t said yes, but he hadn’t denied Nerob either. Rimon, sick, felt the cold dread gathering in Kadi. At that moment, he could have wrung his father’s neck. If Kadi were Sime, fine, she would do well enough for Farris’ peculiar son. But if she were Gen, Farris would casually hand her over to Nerob, use her for breeding—
It was only Kadi’s discomfort that kept Rimon from going after his father in fury. Putting his arm around her, he said, “Don’t worry, Kadi—you’re going to be Sime, and you’re going to be my wife. That’s a promise!”
Chapter Two
BUT IF I’M DIFFERENT—WHAT AM I?
Two weeks later, Rimon was feeling elated because it was his turnover day. Normally, when a Sime reached the point at which half the selyn from his last transfer was used up and he began the slow descent toward need, he felt depressed. But when Rimon had wakened this morning with that hollow feeling, recognized it, and counted the days, he was delighted. A full two weeks. This time I’m going to make it!
Moreover, he was returning home with a sense of accomplishment, having taken a shipment of Farris Gens to a dealer in Scobla, and wound up with more money than his father had said was a fair price. He and Del Erick had spent a riotous night in Scobla, and were just slightly hung over today. They didn’t talk much during the early morning, as they negotiated the empty wagon through the mountain passes. Around noon, Del, much more a participant in last night’s activities than Rimon, adjourned to the bed of the wagon for a nap.
They were now on the Ancient Highway, the eyeway, which would take them straight home. Rimon hardly had to pay attention to his driving, as the broad roadbed scorched deep into the landscape by the mysterious Ancients ran straight as far as the eye could see—yes, eyeways was the right name for them.
The wagon jolted and creaked as the smooth roadway gave way to a wooden bridge across a gully. Del sat up with a groan. “Hey!” he complained. “Warn me when you’re gonna run off the road!”
“We’re on it,” replied Rimon, looking back. “Quit sitting on my package!”
“It’s soft,” said Del, patting the parcel he was leaning against. “What is it?”
“Cloth,” said Rimon. “Beautiful soft material the color of Kadi’s eyes. Don’t you tell her, though. It’s a surprise, for her wedding dress.”
Del patted the package. “All that for one girl’s dress? There must be enough here to dress every woman on the Farm.”
“Well, how should I know how much it takes for a lady’s dress? Better too much than too little.”
“Shendi, Rimon! You don’t have to get so touchy about a little teasing!” Del’s nager flashed slight pain and strong annoyance at him.
“Huh? I’m not touchy. What’s the matter with you?”
“You’re doing it again! Shen and shid—that hurts!”
Aware now of Del’s actual pain, Rimon noticed that he had been ignoring a vibration of his own fields that was intensely irritating to the other Sime. As he strained to stop the vibrations, they only grew stronger. Fighting off panic, his body refusing to obey him, he let go of the physical world, sensing only through his Sime perceptions, and at last found control of his oscillating fields– or was it that the attack was waning on its own?
Swinging back to ordinary consciousness, he said, “Sorry, Del. I—”
Del shrugged. “You always fluctuate more than normal on your turnover day, but never like that!”
“I know. Kadi can stop it, though. I’ll be okay as soon as I get home to her. Shen! Do you suppose my turnover symptoms would always build up to that if Kadi didn’t stop them?”
“I don’t know, but let’s get you home to her!” Del climbed onto the seat and took the slack reins from Rimon, slapping them across the plodding horses’ backs. “What I don’t understand is how a kid like that can have any effect on a grown Sime. She’s going to be one shendi-flamin’ woman!”
“Yeah,” said Rimon. “And she’s mine.”
Late that afternoon, Rimon and Del pulled the wagon up before the big house on the Farris Genfarm. Rimon’s eager anticipation faded beneath a strange foreboding. The first thing to meet his eye was Kadi’s dog, Wolf, tied to the porch railing. At the sight of Rimon, the animal set up a pitiful whimpering, punctuated with howls as Rimon, led by the muffled sound of angry voices inside the house, hurried past without stopping.
The door to his father’s office stood open. Inside were his father and three members of the Morcot family: Ran, Mama, and Serri. In a frozen moment, he took in the black anger on his father’s face, along with the confusion of anger, compassion, and guilt in his nager; the grief in the Morcots, along with an almost equal anger in the two adults; the fact that the family was dressed for travel; and that while the two adult faces were stained with dried tears, Serri was crying openly.
Then he became aware of the argument going on.
“I don’t understand, Morcot,” Farris was saying. “After sixteen years of working together, why did you do this? Why didn’t you trust me?”
“It was Kadi’s choice,” replied Morcot. “I knew you couldn’t understand that.”
“Kadi had no choice!” Farris said furiously. “She was Gen!”
Gen? Kadi? WASH The world around Rimon swirled dizzily into selyn fields. Kadi—dead? Someone’s kill? WHO??!
He had to come back to ordinary consciousness to find out. No one had yet noticed him, and the argument was continuing.
“—would have kept her as a breeder,” his father was saying. “You know I can always use healthy females. She would have been perfectly safe.”
Marna spoke up. “You promised her to Nerob. You would have made her the property of another Gen! When she told me that, do you think I could hand my daughter over to you? I raised your son, Syrus Farris—I loved him as my own. If he had established, I would not have let him go to you—no, not your own flesh would you take pity on!”
Pain sang in Farris’ nager, overshadowed by the greater pain emanating from Kadi’s parents. “A Gen is a Gen,” he said harshly. “And th
e law is the law. She left my property. Ran, Marna—don’t you know I loved your daughter, too? That I wanted her to be my daughter—my son’s wife? Every family must face the possibility of a child’s establishing—and being their child no longer. We must accept it just as we would have to accept it if she had died.”
“Then she’s not dead!” gasped Rimon. The others turned to him in surprise as he demanded, “Where is she?”
“There’s nothing you can do for her, Rimon,” said Farris.
“Where is she?” he repeated.
“The traders took her this morning,” replied Morcot. “I think they’re taking her to the Reloc Bazaar.”
The Reloc Bazaar! The place that catered to all extremes of exotic—and perverted—Sime taste. If Kadi were sold there, she might be tortured first. She might be– Rimon didn’t even know the possibilities, having heard the Reloc Bazaar spoken of all his life only in hushed whispers.
“Why?” he demanded. “Father, if you knew who had her, why didn’t you go after her and buy her back?”
“Rimon, you know the law. She has family living here on my Farm; therefore, it would have been illegal for the traders who captured her to sell her to me. I tried, but they knew who she was.”
“She has no family here any longer!” said Ran Morcot. “We are leaving. When Kadi told us about your promise to Nerob—”
Fury rose in Rimon. “You would have! Right in front of me, you would have handed her over to Nerob!”
Farris visibly struggled to keep from lashing out as angrily as his son. “Yes,” he admitted. “Rimon, she is Gen. It is far better that she has been taken away. When you’ve calmed down, you’ll see that things have worked out for the best.”
“The best! I know what’s best: I’m going to Reloc and buy her!”
“Rimon, you can’t,” said Farris. “What would you do with her?”
“Take her to the border! I’ll buy her, all nice and legal with my own money—and then I’ll escort her to the border myself, and see that.she has a chance at life!”
Rimon swept from the room and down the hall to his own room. Behind him, the raised voices faded to silence. Then, out the window, he saw the Morcot family leave, their meager belongings piled into a small wagon. Serri brought Wolf, dragging his feet and whimpering. She was trying to fasten him to the wagon when the rope came loose about his neck. He immediately took off at a dead run—in the direction the traders would take toward Reloc.
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