Kelexel began to remember, from Fraffin productions, the native problems involving various liquors. It was all true, then. Real, as Ruth would say.
""S a dirty world," she said. "Y" s"pose we"re part of a story? They shootin" us with their d.a.m.n cameras?"
What a hideous idea, Kelexel thought. But there was a strange sense of verity in her words. The dialogue carried some of the surface characteristics of a Fraffin story.
In this moment, Kelexel had to remind himself that creatures such as Ruth had lived long (by their standards) in dreams that Fraffin wove. Not exactly dreams, though, because Chem spectators could enter the story world, too. In a sudden burst of insight, Kelexel realized he had entered the world of violence and emotion which Fraffin had created. Entering that world, he had been corrupted. To share the native delusions if only for a moment was to be enslaved by the need for more such corruption.
Kelexel wanted to tear himself away from this room, renounce his new pet, return only to his duty. But he knew he couldn"t do that. Knowing this, he wondered what particular thing had trapped him. No answer came to his searching awareness.
He stared at Ruth.
These natives are a dangerous flame, he thought. We don"t own them! We"re their slaves!
Now, his suspicions were fully aroused. He stared around the room. What was it? What was wrong here?
He found nothing of this moment and this place upon which he could focus his educated suspicions. This of itself touched a deep chord of anger and fear in him. He felt that he was being played with, led about. Was Fraffin playing with him? The ship"s people had suborned four previous Investigators of the Bureau. How? What plans had they for his own person? Surely they knew by now he was no ordinary visitor. But what could they possibly do?
Not violence, certainly.
Ruth began to cry, the sobs shaking her shoulders. "All alone," she muttered. "All alone."
Was it the native female? Kelexel wondered. Was she the bait in the trap?
There could be no certainty in a secret battle of this land. You contended, one against the other, but every struggle occurred beneath a deceptively calm surface, hidden behind polite words and civilities and ritual behavior. The struggle went on and on within an intimate arena where no violence could be permitted.
How can they hope to win? Kelexel asked himself.
Even if they bested him, they must know there"d be other Kelexels. It would never end.
Never.
Never.
Awareness of an endless future broke like waves across the reef of his mind. On this path lay the Chem madness, Kelexel knew. He drew back from such thoughts.
Ruth got up, stood looking down at him unsteadily.
Savagely, Kelexel adjusted the manipulator. Ruth stiffened. The skin rippled on her cheeks and forearms. Her eyes glazed over. Abruptly, she turned, ran for the water basin in the corner. She leaned on it, retching.
Presently, she returned to her chair, moving as though pulled by strings. Distantly in her mind, a tiny kernel of awareness cried out: "This is not you doing these things! These things are being done to you."
Kelexel held up his flagon, said: "With such things as this your world fascinates and attracts us. Tell me, with what does your world repel?"
"It isn"t a world," she said, her voice shaky. "It"s a cage. This is your own private zoo."
"Ahhh, hmmm," Kelexel said. He sipped at his drink, but it had lost its savor. He put the flagon on the table. There were wet circles there where he had put the flagon before. He looked at them. The female was becoming resistant, obstinate. How could that be? Only the Chem and an occasional mutant were immune to such pressures. Even the Chem wouldn"t be completely immune without Tiggywaugh"s web and the special treatment they received at birth.
Again, he studied Ruth.
She returned his stare defiantly.
"Your lives are so short," Kelexel said. "Your past is so short -- yet one gains the definite feeling of something ancient from you. How can that be?"
"Score one for our side," Ruth said. She could feel her emotions being adjusted, soothed. It happened with an uncanny rapidity. Insane sobriety invaded her mind.
"Please stop changing me," she whispered.
And she wondered: Was that the right thing to say then? But she felt she had to disagree with the creature now, even risk making him angry. She had to oppose him -- subtly, definitely. It was either that or lose her sanity in this wasteland of unreason. She could no longer remain pa.s.sive, fencing in a mental world where the Chem could not come.
Stop changing her? Kelexel wondered.
There lay a kernel of opposition in that whispered cry and he recognized it. Thus the barbarian always spoke to the civilizer. Instantly alerted, he became at once the true cynic of the Federation, the loyal servant of the Primacy. The native female should not be able to oppose him.
"How do I change you?" he asked.
"I wish I knew," she said. "All I know is you think I"m stupid and don"t realize what you"re doing."
Has Fraffin trained this creature? Kelexel wondered. Was she prepared for me? He remembered his first interview with Fraffin, the sense of menace.
"What has Fraffin told you to do?" he demanded.
"Fraffin?" Her face showed blank puzzlement. What had the storyship"s director to do with her?
"I won"t betray you," Kelexel said.
She wet her lips with her tongue. Nothing the Chem did or said made any sense. The only thing she really understood was their power.
"If Fraffin"s done anything illegal with you creatures I must know about it," Kelexel said. "I will not be denied. I will know about it."
She shook her head.
"As much as can be known of Fraffin, that I know," Kelexel said. "You were little more than the rawest sort of animals here when he came. Chem walked among you as G.o.ds then without the slightest concern."
"Illegal?" she said. "What do you mean illegal?"
"You"ve rudimentary laws among your kind," Kelexel sneered. "You know about legality and illegality."
"I"ve never even seen Fraffin," she said. "Except on the room screen."
"The letter of the law, eh? His minions, then -- what have they told you to do?"
Again, she shook her head. There was a weapon here she could use; she sensed this, but couldn"t quite understand enough to grasp it.
Kelexel whirled away from her, strode to the pantovive and back. He stopped ten paces from Ruth, glared up at her. "He bred you and shaped you and nudged you -- changed you -- into the finest story property in the universe. Some of the offers he"s had -- and turned down -- would . . . well, you wouldn"t understand."
"Turned down . . . why?" she asked.
"Ahh, that is the question."