The Totems of Abydos

by John Norman

  He put the cup down on the tray and leaned forward, reaching to his right. He put his hand fully in the glossy dark hair of the brunette, grasping it, and drew her head a little forward, toward him. Then he released her hair and she knelt back again. She had knelt on the right without having been told to do so. She had been trained to do so, of course, just she had been trained to set a table in the zardian fashion, and such. Most zards, you see, like most in Brenner’s species as well, and as he was, were right-handed. In this fashion she would be more convenient to hand. It might be mentioned, however, that, as she was a highly intelligent female, the appropriateness and naturalness of this position, its convenience, significance, and such, were quite obvious to her, quite aside from the sanctions of her training.

  Brenner looked down upon her. It was hard for him to take his eyes off her.

  “Earlier,” she said, “I had thought it disturbed you to have me at your feet.”

  He regarded her, musingly.

  They were in the room to which she had conducted Brenner.

  It was a comfortable room, which contained a large, soft bed. It contained no window. Brenner had locked the door on the inside.

  “One grows used to it,” said Brenner.

  “You learn quickly,” she said.

  There was, incidentally, only one chair in the room, that in which Brenner sat.

  Brenner took a another sip of the coffee, a tiny sip, a lingering sip. He continued to regard the young woman, kneeling there, in the revealing silk, beside him, attendant upon him.

  “I should not have you there,” he said.

  “It is where I belong,” she said.

  “We are sames, identicals,” he said.

  “That is a pretense I have never found either plausible or congenial,” she said.

  “I am a person,” he said.

  “It is my hope that you are a man,” she said.

  “You are a person,” he said.

  “No,” she said.

  “How then should I think of you?” he asked.

  “I am a girl,” she said.

  Brenner looked at her.

  “It is common to think of women under contract, and female slaves, and such, as girls,” she said.

  “Surely you find that grossly demeaning,” he said.

  “I like it,” she said.

  “Oh?” asked Brenner.

  “I find it appropriate, and flattering,” she said. “And surely it is fitting, and obviously so, considering our status.”

  “I see,” said Brenner. “It has more to do with status, and such.”

  “Yes,” she said, “and with interest, and beauty, and how it is appropriate to relate to us, that sort of thing.”

  “Then I shall call you a “girl,”” said Brenner, “that being appropriate for a woman such as you.”

  “Exactly,” she smiled.

  “You seem submissive, and docile,” he said.

  “I am submissive and docile,” she said.

  “You did not seem so earlier today,” he said.

  “I am now,” she said.

  He regarded her.

  “You may beat me,” she said. “Implements for that purpose are available in the room.”

  Brenner glanced about. To be sure, on the far wall there hung a whip, and a quirt. There also hung, here and there about the room, some other articles, a coil of rope, a pair of linked bracelets, some shackles, a chain and collar, and some thongs. There was a ring set in the far wall, and one in the floor, near the foot of the bed. There was also a bar in evidence, the latter fixed in the lower portion of the stout headboard of the bed, to which he supposed a woman, perhaps by tied, crossed wrists, perhaps on her back or belly, might be fastened.

  “I shall consider it,” said Brenner.

  She looked at him suddenly, frightened.

  He suddenly realized that he could do that, if he wished. He did not think that the zard would object, assuming, of course, that her value was not reduced. Indeed, perhaps a beating might improve her value. Brenner suspected, for example, that the blonde’s value might be considerably increased by something of that sort. In any event, it seemed, at least for most practical purposes, that the zard would not be involved. The matter was primarily between him and the girl, or, as he had gathered from her glance, actually, rather, up to him.

  He regarded her.

  “You can do with me what you want,” she said, “that is, within reason, as I am a free woman.”

  “And if you were a slave?” asked Brenner.

  “Then,” she said, looking down, “you could do with me as you want.”

  “I see,” said Brenner.

  “I was upset!” she said.

  He looked at her.

  “Earlier you said you forgave me!” she said.

  “I may rethink the matter,” said Brenner.

  “Do you forgive me?” she asked.

  “I have not decided,” he said.

  “I see,” she said.

  He regarded her. Her curves seemed incredibly delicious to him.

  “I was cold, out in the mud, miserable, and barefoot, and I was not looking where I was going,” she said.

  Brenner finished the coffee, and put down the cup.

  “I should not have lost my temper, of course,” she said. “I realize that.”

  “And perhaps you realize it with a special emphasis now,” said Brenner.

  “Now that I am here, at your feet, and, as you doubtless must understand, much at your mercy?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Yes, of course,” she said.

  “You were wearing a dress,” said Brenner.

  “Yes,” she said. “Women at Company Station must wear skirts, dresses, and such things. They are not permitted masculine garb.”

  “But such things,” said Brenner soberly, critically, “tend to emphasize gender differences.”

  “Certainly,” she said, puzzled.

  “Surely you regard that as wrong,” he said.

  “I regard it as wrong not to emphasize such differences,” she said.

  “Surely you object to being forced to wear dresses, and such things,” he said.

  “No,” she said. “I want to wear such things. I love such things. And, too, I am pleased that we are forced to wear them. I enjoy having no choice in this matter. Such garmenture, and the coercions attached to it, speak to me of my differences from men, and of my own nature, and of the rightfulness and legitimacy of these differences, and of this nature. Too, it then makes it more difficult for a certain form of woman to imitate men, and to attempt to instill guilts in others, who would prefer not to follow their perverse example.”

  “You know that women on the home world do not wear such things,” said Brenner.

  “Perhaps they do in secret, with their lovers,” she said.

  “Surely such things do not occur,” said Brenner.

  “Perhaps not,” she said. “I would not know.”

  “Are you from the home world?” asked Brenner.

  “Once,” she said.

  “What of your silk?” asked Brenner. “Surely you regard that as deplorably feminine.”

  “Why deplorably?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” admitted Brenner. He didn’t. He supposed that perhaps it was his conditioning program which, in effect, had spoken. Conditioning programs are useful in the inculcation of values. They are useful in the production of uncritical, reflexive responses. They have many advantages, such as social control, the manufacture of consensus, and the protection of particular establishments, depending on the program in question. Also, of course, from the individual’s point of view, they can produce the comfort of unquestioned certitude and the illusion of knowledge. That they save the time and trouble of thought is another considerable advantage. It is not unusual for a puppet to interpret the jerking of its strings as the deliverances of rational intuition. That is part of the jerking of the strings. How very few individuals, incidentally, are ev
en aware of their conditioning. It is rather as though colored glasses were strapped on them at birth and, as a consequence, they lived their lives seeing the world as green, and not even knowing they saw it as green. In a sense, of course, our sensors are such, too. We see the world in a given way, and few of us suspect, or understand, that it might be seen in an infinite number of alternative fashions. Brenner’s species did not live in the same world, experientially speaking, as the zards, or the teswits, or, say, the ant, the bat, and cuttlefish. Returning to conditionings, it must be understood that not all stings and shocks, all negative reinforcements, are as simplistic as those administered through electric grids, nor all rewards as obvious and naive as the food pellet rattling about in the feed pan. And if many individuals are not even aware of their conditioning, taking their conditioned responses as the deliverances of reason, or rational inspection, or insights into the nature of reality, or whatever, it is even less surprising that fewer individuals have the audacity or courage, or simple curiosity, to inquire into the nature, justification, or validity of these programs. That, in virtue of the program itself, part of which is to the effect that it itself may not be questioned, except perhaps in a superficial or token fashion, is dangerous, being attended with various risks to the individual, internal, such as self-doubts, miseries, and guilts, and external, such as social sanctions, which may range from ridicule and exclusion to death. It is not surprising that many individuals who pretend to undertake an inquiry into the validity of their conditioning programs will not cease their endeavors nor rest easy until they find themselves securely returned to the point they started from, whatever that point happens to be in the particular case.

  But if conditioning programs are so effective, how is it that they are ever changed, or transcended, even over periods of generations? The answer to this is at least fourfold. First, they are not, as yet, at least, that effective. Second, not all conditioning programs are identical. Accordingly, the inconsistency generated by the collision of competitive conditioning programs necessitates adjustments, not all of which can be resolved easily by exterminating the adherents of the alternative program. Thirdly, such programs often encounter difficulties, such as reality. Fourthly, some individuals can think.

  “If you think this is feminine,” she laughed, “you should see some of the diaphanous silks in the wardrobe.” She indicated a wardrobe against one wall. “Would you like me to silk myself in such?” she asked.

  “No!” said Brenner. “Of course not.”

  “You must understand,” she said, “that we are given no choice in what we wear upon the floor.”

  “If you had your choice, what would you wear?” asked Brenner.

  “This,” she smiled, “or such, or less.”

  “It is rather brief,” he said.

  “Do you object?” she asked.

  “No,” he said.

  “Nor do I,” she said.

  “You are a very strange woman,” he said.

  “How so?” she asked, puzzled.

  “It seems you do not mind being a woman,” he said.

  “I love being a woman,” she said. “I rejoice that I am a woman. I want to be a woman. But I want to be a true woman, a real woman, a loving woman, a feminine woman, not some political travesty that would make my very nature and body an embarrassment or an irrelevance.”

  “I see,” said Brenner.

  “My silk disturbs you, does it not?” she asked.

  “Yes,” said Brenner. Or, perhaps it would have been more accurate to say that she, in such silk, disturbed him.

  “I am sorry,” she said.

  “Are you wearing anything under it?” asked Brenner.

  “A bold question,” she said, “coming from one from the home world.”

  “Are you?” he asked.

  “No,” she said.

  Her response confirmed his conjectures.

  “It exhibits you—like an animal,” he said.

  “I am an animal,” she said, “biologically.” She looked up at him. “It is my hope that you are one also.”

  He looked at her.

  “I am not an animal legally, of course,” she said, “as I am a free woman, and not a slave.” Slaves are legally animals, domestic animals.

  “Save, of course,” said he, “that animals are no longer exhibited.” He referred, of course, to the home world.

  “Say, then,” she said, “that it exhibits me—like a woman.”

  “Yes,” he said. “It exhibits you—like a woman.”

  “Yes!” she laughed.

  “Do you enjoy being exhibited?” he asked.

  “I enjoy being beautiful,” she said.

  “Do you enjoy being displayed—exhibited?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “I enjoy being displayed. I enjoy being exhibited.”

  “I see,” said Brenner.

  “It is my hope,” she said, “that you like what you see.”

  He looked at her.

  “Do you?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “You may do with me what you want, you know,” she said.

  “Within reason,” said Brenner.

  “Yes,” she smiled.

  “Reason as determined by the zard,” said Brenner.

  “Where females of our species are concerned,” she said, “he is tolerant and has a very broad concept of reasonableness.”

  Brenner did not doubt it.

  “Do you want me to like what I see?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Because you then think that your chances of being punished might be less?” he asked.

  She put down her head. “That, too,” she said.

  “How did you come to be under contract?” asked Brenner.

  “Surely you can guess,” she said.

  “You were in debt?” he asked.

  “No,” she said.

  “You needed money?”

  “No,” she said.

  “But surely you placed yourself under contract?” he asked.

  “No,” she said.

  “I do not understand,” he said.

  “It was done to me,” she said. “I was sentenced to contract.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I liked men,” she said.

  “Of course you liked men,” said Brenner. “On the home world we not only like all life forms, men, women, sponges, insects, grubs, and such, but we love them. It has to do with the brotherhood of life.”

  “No,” she said. “I liked men.”

  “Oh,” said Brenner.

  “I wanted to be submissive to men, and docile in their presence.”

  “As you were earlier today?” said Brenner.

  “Certainly you find me submissive and docile now,” she said.

  “Yes,” said Brenner.

  “I do not speak of fits of anger, or petulance,” she said, “lapses to which I am occasionally susceptible, particularly under conditions of stress, as might be anyone, and for which, if you wish, I may be severely disciplined, but of fundamental, genetically determined, attitudes, and dispositions.”

  “Genetically determined?” asked Brenner.

  “One supposes so,” she said, “as they were utterly at odds with the prescriptions of my cultural milieu.”

  “You do not believe in the “blank tablet” or “hollow body” theory?” asked Brenner.

  “No,” she said. “I believe there are genetically coded dispositions to respond, and genetically coded criteria for what will fulfill the organism, doubtless the result of natural selections over millions of years, as well as genetic codings for hair and eye color, and such things. Too, I find the alternative frightful, for that would suggest, whether it is true or false, that the human being is nothing in itself, but is empty, and meaningless, that it has no nature, and, as a consequence, that it may be turned into anything those with power wish, and there is no measuring rod or standard internal to the organism with which to appraise these sub
sequently produced human artifacts. For example, those of the home world, the behavioral engineers, and such, seem to suppose that everyone would choose to produce the same engineered products as themselves, but that is certainly not necessarily the case. It would be just as easy, it seems, if what they believe is true, to produce populations with values quite other than those which they approve, indeed, populations with quite diverse, and perhaps even antithetical, sets of values. Moreover, there would seem to be, from their point of view, no more justification for one of these value sets than for another, except perhaps that one might be found distasteful to them, given their values, as theirs might be found distasteful to others, given their values. It is as easy to fill the hollow body with venom as it is syrup. It is as easy to write cruelty and terror upon the blank tablet as platitudes and nursery rhymes.”

  “Go on,” said Brenner.

  “I was curious about men,” she said. “I wondered what it would be, to be touched by them, to be held in their arms, to serve them, to have to obey them, to be owned by them.”

  “Such are forbidden feminine impulses,” said Brenner, shocked.

  “‘Feminine’ in the old sense,” she said.

  “Yes,” agreed Brenner. ‘Feminine’ in the new sense meant, in effect, what ‘masculine’ used to mean in the old sense. On the other hand, as would be expected, ‘masculine’ on the home world now meant, in effect, what ‘feminine’ used to mean, in the old sense. These linguistic alterations were portions of the conditioning programs through which children were forced. To be sure, as we have suggested, these linguistic “reforms,” despite their political expedience, had not been successful. People tended to find new words for the old things. People, on the whole, continued to fit language to reality rather than reality to language. In such matters, reality continued to have the last word, so to speak.

  “And forbidden, of course,” she said, “because they are very real.”

  “Else there would be no point in disparaging such impulses, or attempting to prohibit them,” said Brenner.

  “Precisely,” she said.

  “But surely you are an unusual woman,” said Brenner, “that you would have such disgusting and terrible attitudes, or needs, or impulses.”

  “Why are they disgusting or terrible?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Brenner. Once again, he didn’t. Once again, it seemed, something had spoken from him, which was not him. “But undoubtedly,” he said, “you are almost unique.”