by Ian Miller
"You think we're too primitive?" Vipsania asked, with a touch of anger in her voice.
"No, I don't think you'll understand," the Tin Man said. "You're welcome to try, but ask yourself what you would make of something on the assassination of Julius Caesar if you did not know he was a general, you knew nothing about the Roman republic, the names of people like Antony or Brutus were meaningless, and you had never heard of humans before today."
"Sounds like this'll be entertaining," Lucilla remarked.
"There are programs which will help you learn about Ulse," the Tin Man said, "and there are Ulsian entertainment channels, although, as I just pointed out, how entertaining they are for you remains to be seen."
"Then we should at least explore our rooms," Lucilla said. "I wonder what constitutes a bed."
"It better be soft," Vipsania said, "and close because my feet are killing me. This extra weight is . . . well . . . difficult."
"We're supposed to get used to it," Gaius grinned.
"By developing fat muscly legs," Lucilla grumbled. "Hardly attractive."
"But then there's hardly anyone to attract," Gaius said, then immediately regretted it.
"Don't remind me," she said, and shuddered as she tried another door.
The beds were surprisingly comfortable, and as Vipsania remarked, the quarters were extraordinarily luxurious. The floors were totally smooth, and warm to feel. As they explored the rest of their apartment, they even found a small area that was "officially" outside, but it was surrounded by walls and a ceiling. The ceiling looked like sky, it had an image of the sun that radiated heat and light, but, they were assured, it was only a few feet up in the air. The generator of these images was a little fragile, so under no circumstances were they to prod or throw things at their "sun". It appeared the entire complex was underground and the ceiling was simply an image to "make them feel at home". In the centre of this area was a fountain that sprayed small amounts of water upwards, then to flatten out abruptly and fall faster than they were used to seeing. There were also small plants, none of which were familiar, and these were mainly flat creepers or small bushes with surprisingly robust trunks and branches.
After the Tin Man had shown them how the various items worked, he excused himself, and informed them he would stand beside the front door.
"You can take a chair," Vipsania offered.
"Thank you, but standing for me is as easy as sitting, and I take up less room. I know this is a lot for you to think about, but, well, there it is." Without further comment or gesture, he turned, walked to his new position, then appeared almost to turn himself off.
They had a reasonable amount of room, and in some ways they had luxuries and gadgets that no Roman had even dreamed about. There was only one drawback. That was that there was only one exit, and that was guarded by the Tin Man. This might be luxurious, but it could become a prison.
The Tin Man was there to help, and also, as it turned out, to prepare food. They were warned about eating any food at all on Ulse other than what was prepared by him.
"Someone might want to poison us?" Lucilla asked as a joke.
"All Ulsian food will be poisonous to you," the Tin Man said.
"Then we'll starve . . ."
"I meant all food that is native to Ulse," the Tin Man hastily corrected himself. "There are a number of representatives from other planets here, and we have food compatible with yours. Unfortunately, some of your favourites will not be available, but you might like the taste of some things you've never seen before. There are also some additional supplies that have come from Kroth, when they ever get through the Ulsian inspections to prevent alien life forms from coming here. In any case . . ."
"We have to eat," Gaius nodded, "so let's be practical."
In the event the food was not a problem. There was some quite strange meat, but it was by no means unpleasant. There were some interesting fruit, breads and other cooked items that were quite tasty. It was a subdued party that ate a quite strange meal that evening. They tried their entertainment screens, and spent some time changing from one program to another, but there was nothing on that they actually wished to look at. However when they finally decided to try to sleep, they found the beds were so comfortable they suddenly felt like royalty.
The next morning, when Gaius went to wash, he found a small object beside the basin, and a note from the Tin Man suggesting that he might prefer to use this to shave. He looked at it, then decided he had better find out how it worked. The Tin Man explained which part did the cutting, how he should turn it on, and where he should put it to let it recharge. He pressed the button, and was quite surprised when it started to vibrate slightly, but he went ahead, somewhat tentatively.
"It works!" he said in surprise, as he felt the part of his face he had shaved.
"Of course it works," the Tin Man said in the nearest Gaius had ever heard to a scathing tone. "A civilization that can build ships to travel across space at virtually the speed of light should be able to devise something to cut hair."
"I'm sorry," Gaius shook his head. "I didn't doubt you. I was just pleasantly surprised."
"Then I assure you," the Tin Man said, "if that gives you a pleasant surprise, there will be many more. Ulse cannot undo what is done, but it can give you access to a lot of devices that your technology could not even imagine, and before you get upset about that, that was a statement of fact. It has no intent to insult."
The Tin Man was correct. Even the simplest of tasks, such as sharpening a knife to cut meat was done so much more efficiently. They each found many of the simplest devices quite fascinating, and even fun to use. Vipsania in particular was enthralled by them, and she agreed completely with the Tin Man: she was not going to feel inferior because Romans had not devised these items. After all, in twenty million years you should have done something better than a nation that had existed for seven centuries.
Eventually, of course, the novelty began to wear off, and routine jobs began to feel, once again, like routine jobs, even if they were being done with equipment they could never have imagined. In fact, as Lucilla was to remark later, it was quite surprising how quickly cleaning with a sonicated wash/suck device felt just as much like work as cleaning with a brush. Except, of course, the job was done far better, and far far more quickly. After their first few weeks, they knew they could survive. The question was, could they live?
Chapter 7
Tempers were beginning to fray. The exit door was always closed and the Tin Man appeared to be deactivated. The Tin Man refused to respond to all requests and questions, but eventually Gaius stood in front of him and said that he knew the message was getting through, and it was most impolite to simply stand there. Nothing happened for about three minutes, during which time the Tin Man seemed to reactivate, then he informed them that they were not permitted to leave.
"We're prisoners, aren't we?" Lucilla demanded.
"Certainly not!" the Tin Man replied. "Isn't this the most luxurious place you have ever seen?"
"It is," Lucilla replied, "but we're still prisoners."
"You're honoured guests!" the Tin Man protested.
"The difference between a prisoner and a guest is that a guest can go out the front door at any time, and a prisoner cannot," Lucilla responded forcefully. "We cannot."
There was another long pause, and eventually Lucilla said in a very irritable tone, "At the least you could answer."
"Maybe he can't," Gaius said softly to her, as he tried to calm her down. "Maybe he is asking for instructions from somewhere else."
"That is correct," the Tin Man said. "However, I can assure you, you are not considered to be prisoners."
"Then let me go outside!" Lucilla persisted.
"You'd get lost," the Tin Man pointed out. "This is for your own good."
"No we wouldn't," Lucilla countered.
"In any case," Gaius pointed out, "you said before you can find us anywhere on Ulse, and we're hardly likely to be able to go any
where off Ulse, are we?"
"I can't let you out yet," the Tin Man persisted.
"What exactly is the problem?" Vipsania asked.
"Eventually you'll be able to go to lots of places," the Tin Man said, "but right now, it only makes sense to let you go to where you can benefit."
"So let's try somewhere!" Lucilla argued. "Let's make a start."
"I'll get someone to discuss this with you," the Tin Man responded.
* * *
The somebody arrived three days later. An Ulsian dressed in a purple cover-all garment stood before the three irritable Terrans, and as the sleeves covered his hands, only his eyes were visible.
"You took your time," Lucilla had to point out.
"I came immediately," the Ulsian protested.
"Immediately after what?" Lucilla remarked caustically.
"Immediately after the meetings elected me as spokesman," the Ulsian replied.
"You mean," an exasperated Lucilla said, "that there was a meeting that took three days just to decide who should come and see us?"
"That was rather quick," the Ulsian nodded agreement.
"Quick?" Gaius almost exploded. "I suppose your military decisions are taken with similar speed?"
"Oh no," the Ulsian replied. "I assure you not. We do consider everything. They take years."
"Each?" Lucilla asked sarcastically.
"Oh yes," the Ulsian seemed to almost beam from behind the 'tent'.
"No wonder you're losing the war," Gaius muttered.
"What was that?" the Ulsian responded angrily.
"Nothing," Gaius muttered.
"It was indeed something!" the Ulsian snarled. "You're truly a barbarian! You want Ulsians to rush off and get killed. You're a . . ."
"I was suggesting that the Ulsian military had better get off its arse," Gaius said coldly, "and I never suggest that battles be bought with soldiers' lives."
"We should get off this topic," Vipsania said, as she pushed herself between the two of them. "What we want to know is, when are we going to be let outside?"
"When our meetings decide!" the Ulsian said angrily.
"And when'll that be?" Lucilla snorted.
"When we're ready!" came an even angrier reply. "These things have to be done properly, not like barbarians do them!"
"Of course," Gaius muttered sarcastically. "We've got to have the appropriate number of meetings."
"I'm glad that at last you agree," the Ulsian said, with a mixture of relief and arrogance. "You must excuse me. I must go."
"Presumably to another meeting," Gaius muttered.
"Of course!"
"How can we find out what's going on at the meeting discussing us?" Vipsania asked. She had lifted her tone and was desperately trying not to give further offence. "I mean, since it's about our future, we should know something about it."
"On your display," the Ulsian said. "Key in the meetings channel, and key in 85/53212."
"Why such a large number?" Vipsania asked innocently.
"Because," the Ulsian said in a tone of utter exasperation, "each meeting has to have a different number, and your affairs are that number on the list this year!"
The Terrans simply stared at each other as the Ulsian strode off. They had that many meetings on that many topics, which went on for almost unlimited time? When did anybody on this planet do something other than attend meetings?
Lucilla turned towards the Tin Man, and said, "This may seem a silly question, but is there a reason Ulsians cover themselves completely?"
"It is quite a sensible question," the Tin Man nodded. "The clothing item you refer to is called a trefune. It is now an item of formal dress, like a Roman toga."
"How do Ulsian's recognize who's underneath?" Vipsania asked curiously.
"They don't," the Tin Man said, "which, I should add, is the current purpose of the trefune. When Ulsians attend meetings, they may then express any opinion they wish to express, free of any fear of consequences. You cannot attack the person of the speaker, so to speak, if you have no idea who the person is. Accordingly, all issues have to be discussed solely on their own merits."
"That could lead to problems," Gaius frowned.
"How?"
"Well, suppose, say, you were discussing the city's water supply. A speaker could claim to be the senior engineer but he could be anyone. A lunatic could insist on anything, on the grounds that . . .
"Not at all," the Tin Man said. "Anyone who claims to have views superior in anyway to the average views must present the evidence for the expertise, and would not wear a trefune."
"So if you arrived at a meeting without a trefune," Lucilla offered, "you would be declaring that you thought yourself to be superior to others in the room?"
"Yes," the Tin Man said. "Returning to Gaius' example, the senior engineer would not wear a trefune. He would not be claiming to be superior to the others in general terms, but he would be claiming superior expertise in the matter of water supplies. But anyone without a trefune and without such a good reason would be immediately condemned for arrogance."
"Then perhaps we should get . . ."
"No need," the Tin Man said. "If you do not wear one, you can also be stating that you are non-Ulsian, which, in your case, is self-evident."
"I see," Lucilla said, although from her expression it seemed evident that she did not see very much.
"What an interesting custom," Vipsania remarked later.
"Very," Lucilla replied sarcastically.
"No, I mean it," Vipsania continued. "The senate, back in Rome, could do with those trefunes. Then they could get on with serving Rome instead of grand-standing, and trying to put something over one of their many enemies."
"Perhaps," Lucilla countered, "but doesn't it also show the Ulsians up as a thoroughly cowardly and devious lot?"
"What do you mean?"
"They have a nice-sounding purpose now, after years and years of self-justification, but think about how they could have gotten started? Why hide your face?"
"You think . . ?"
"You hide to be devious, so as not to face up to your responsibilities, to . . ."
"Not so," the Tin Man interjected. "Their history is quite different."
"Exactly how?" Lucilla asked.
"When Ulsian culture was far more similar to yours, there were wars across the planet, just like yours, except Ulse had developed far more terrible weapons. Most Ulsians were scarred, or deformed in some way, from radiation or other poisons. The trefune was worn to hide the deformities. Initially the purpose of the trefune was to spare the wearer the sight of others shuddering when they saw him. Later, when governments tried to control the population, the trefune was resurrected as a means of showing independence. Now those terrible times are past, it still has formal value."
At first Lucilla seemed embarrassed at having been caught thinking badly of the Ulsians, but then she suddenly realized that the Tin Man, by interrupting, must have been listening to their conversation. Which meant that the Tin Man was listening to all their conversations. He may be there to help them, but he was also there to oversee them. Anything they said could be reported. In whispers, she individually told the others.
Vipsania was horrified, but Gaius seemed not to be surprised. As he whispered back, it would be surprising if the Ulsians did not wish to monitor what they were doing. But since nothing bad had happened so far, as long as any anti-Ulsian feelings got no worse they should be all right. Hence, younger sister, try to keep quiet about anything that particularly annoys you.
* * *
Two days later a different Ulsian in a green trefune came to the door, to announce that the need for getting out of this room was appreciated, and a zone of open countryside had been set aside for their use. It could be accessed through a special tube exit, which the Tin Man could take them to any time they wished.
"But there's still no contact with Ulse itself, is there?" Gaius asked in an irritable tone.
"No."
"No!" the Ulsian interrupted. "We don't at all. However . . ." he paused, and became almost embarrassed.
"However what?"
"Your arrival has created an unexpected possibility for study," the Ulsian said.
"You're going to watch us like animals in a cage!" Gaius spat. He stepped forward aggressively, almost as if he was going to attack the Ulsian. "That was not . . ."
"Please, no!" the Ulsian shrunk back.
"Gaius," Vipsania whispered. "Please don't?"
"Don't what?" Gaius said irritably, although now a little calmer.
"Don't do anything to irritate our . . . guest."
"It's very difficult not to get irritable when you're being lied to!" Gaius said angrily.
"You haven't been lied to!" the Ulsian protested, "but your violent attitude isn't helping in the slightest."
"Violent?" Gaius roared, and the Ulsian shrunk back again. "What've I done that's violent?"
"You looked as if you're going to hit me!" the Ulsian protested.
"Oh dear!" Gaius shrugged, and stepped back, almost deflated. "Listen! If I were going to hit you, you would've been hit long before now."
"What Gaius is trying to say," Vipsania intervened and stood between them, "is that he is angry, but he was never going to hit you. Humans tend to shout," she continued, "when they get frustrated, because the explanation presented is illogical or non-existent."
"You wish a logical explanation for our actions?" the Ulsian frowned.
"Yes," Vipsania replied, then held her hand up to stop Gaius from speaking. "I know," she continued, "that getting angry's irrational, but the solution's easy. Give us a logical explanation of why we aren't being treated like slaves, or prisoners, or exhibits, and what we have to do to get over this, because we really don't wish to stay in this room all our lives."
"That is fair comment," the Ulsian responded. "The question is, can you understand?"
"Not on the present information," Gaius said calmly. He had begun to appreciate what Vipsania had done.
"The general feeling in some quarters," the Ulsian said slowly, cautiously testing the attitude of his audience, "is that while Ulse must treat you like civilized beings, and help you to get around in Ulsian society, there has to be something coming the other way."
