The Totems of Abydos

CHAPTER 3





“I need a drink,” said Rodriguez.

The mud in most places was more than ankle deep on the unpaved streets of Company Station. Here and there a few boards, wet and slick in the muck, were laid end to end, of which boards Brenner, as he could, took advantage. Rodriguez, wading from point to point, with Euclidean methodicality, availed himself of these boards only as they might be so fortunate as to lie in such a way as to be coincident with his independently elected path. This was perhaps not irrational as there were clearly limits to the amount of mud which could adhere to a single pair of boots and trousers. Brenner, who had fallen twice already, was covered with mud. So, too, was the valise he carried. Inside his boots, it was like wading within wading. Every time he put his foot down, it forced water to the sides and over his foot, which water, as he lifted his foot, eddied back to the insole. A light drizzle, having succeeded a harder rain, was still falling.

“Let’s check in at Company Hostel,” said Brenner, slipping, regaining his balance.

“That’s not the sort of bar I’m looking for,” said Rodriguez, looking about in the gloom, the soft rain.

Brenner was not enthusiastic about Company Station, even from the first moments after they had disembarked from the fueler. It was still hard to see in the gloom, with the drizzle, and the cloudiness of the day. Company Station seemed, for the most part, to be a depressive, dismal, squalid collection of low, unpainted, unimpressive buildings, many, in spite of their age, being of the sort which would normally have been regarded as temporary. Some might date back from the transitional period between a camp and the first days of a town. To be sure, here and there, back from the main buildings, were occasional small buildings, quite possibly residences, cottages and such, with white fences, with window boxes, with some hint of landscaping. Brenner squinted against the drizzle, squeezing water from between his eyelids. The bulk of their baggage, which was not much, was being held by the day agent at the fueling depot. It was to be delivered to Company Hostel in the early evening, by the porters of the night agent. The standard vehicle for such deliveries, at this time of year, was the mud sled, in the traces a quorn, a web-footed, salamandertype creature, wheeled vehicles tending to be impractical in the mire. The company, of course, also had at its disposal motorized mud sleds. Brenner did not care for the thought of the baggage being delivered in virtue of the exploitation of a beast of burden, doubtless enslaved for such a purpose, but, after all, he was not in charge of Company Station and also did not much care to his try his hand at drawing the sled himself. For one thing, the quorn was much better at such things than he would be, being much more powerful, much more sure-footed, and so on. On many worlds, incidentally, the use of beasts of burden was not unknown, and, in spite of its possible moral impropriety, was accorded some justification on the basis of various ecological considerations, such as avoiding poisoning the atmosphere. Indeed, on some worlds, the form of animal known as the horse, long extinct on the home world, continued to thrive in such a capacity, and several others, such as affording mounts. Indeed, on some of the openly stratified worlds, or “strong worlds,” as Rodriguez might have called them, riders were common, sometimes with slaves at their stirrup. Too, on some worlds Brenner knew that his own species served in similar capacities, largely as beasts of burden, mounts, racing stock, and such, for more technologically advanced, if not superior, life forms. Unable to do anything about this, given the cumulative consequences of their own moral, technological, and cosmic choices, many members of his species praised this, claiming to see in it a form of compensatory justice, a putative compensation for wrongs perpetrated by their species in the past. To be sure, such members of Brenner’s species seldom visited such worlds, in this perhaps manifesting some puzzling inconsistency, apparently being unwilling to risk being seized as stock, in spite of the fact that such a fate would clearly seem, at least from their own point of view, to contribute to the redressing of outrageous wrongs, to the righting of the hitherto skewed balances of justice. The population of Company Station was about two thousand individuals, most of whom were of Brenner’s and Rodriguez’ species. Most stations were manned, at least substantially, by members of a given species, for reasons earlier suggested. Most, but not all, of the individuals at Company Station were company employees. As would be expected, given the type of chartering involved, such as was granted by nations or worlds claiming sovereignty over various territories or worlds in virtue of discovery or exploration, the company controlled the land within specified limits, and was additionally entitled to the exploitation of certain rights, in particular mineral rights, beyond it; naturally, too, the company managed and maintained, to one degree or another, all permanent structures erected within the strict charter limits; lastly it might be noted that the company owned and managed most businesses within the same limits, in particular, businesses which had to do primarily with the supplying of goods, such as groceries, clothing, equipment, and numerous sundries, as opposed to services, such as barbering and laundering. This is not to deny, of course, that there were some services controlled by the company, such as medical and dental care, nor that there were various goods available on the shelves of small businessmen who were not company employees, businessmen, however, or business creatures, if you like, for they were not all members of Brenner’s and Rodriguez’ species, who leased their premises from the company. The bars, for example, were on the whole in the keeping of these independent fellows, or creatures, as the case might be. The only official currency at Company Station was company credits. Commonworld credits, and others, however, might be transformed, for a fee, into company credits at the current rate of exchange, and, of course, subject to company approval, usually easily obtained, company credits, for a fee, could be transformed into various currencies, this for the convenience of individuals who might be leaving the station. Naturally, as on many worlds in this portion of the galaxy, most exchanges consisted simply of shifting numbers amongst accounts, rather than in the actual exchange of material tokens, such as pieces of paper or metal. Barter, too, of course, as always, provided an additional medium of exchange. It is interesting to note that on several of the openly stratified, or “strong,” worlds, material tokens, in all their primitiveness, tended to remain in use. Here the thought seemed to be that something real would be exchanged for something real, for example, a coin for a woman. On some of these worlds there was a coin in circulation called the “slave.” In this sense a slave might be purchased for one or more “slaves.” In these worlds where realities were exchanged for realities some thought it was regarded as incumbent on a female slave, regardless of the price put on her, to strive to the best of her ability to vindicate her purchaser’s confidence in her, and his expectations, testified to by his actual paying out real money, of whatever amount, to obtain her. This, of course, is a misconception as it is incumbent on the slave in any case, in virtue of the very nature of her condition, and regardless of the modality in virtue of which her ownership is acquired, even if it is only in virtue of the shifting of numbers amongst accounts, to be totally pleasing. It is also interesting to note that on the strong worlds, as opposed to certain other worlds which commonly make a meretricious pretense to moral posture, sophisticated devices of correction or punishment are seldom, if ever, used. Relatively primitive modalities, such as those of leather and iron, in keeping with the tendency of such worlds to maintain natural relationships, apparently well serve their needs.

There was a rolling, grinding sound from overhead, and Brenner looked up, startled, and almost slipped.

“Be careful,” said Rodriguez.

Overhead, on the track system raised above the street, a small engine, controlled by a single trainman, was pulling a train of canisters strapped on hemispherical cars.

“The ship hasn’t left yet,” said Rodriguez.

The ice formed on the canisters suggested that they contained an oxidizer, probably for the freighter’s auxiliary power systems.

Fuel, and such, as I have suggested, was conveyed between the freighter and the depot by smaller ships.

“The ship may not even be unloaded yet,” added Rodriguez.

They had left the ship on the first return trip of the depot fueler.

Brenner speculated that what Rodriguez had said might be correct. Doubtless, at any rate, there would be supplies, and such, which the freighter would disembark, via fuelers, at Company Station. It needed its goods, as well as the freighter its fuel. No passengers from Company Station had come up from the surface to the freighter, nor had Brenner noted any in the vicinity of the agent’s office. That, however, he supposed, was only to be expected. Aside from the occasional trips, and routings about, of company employees, their comings and goings on leaves, or upon the initiation or completion of their assignments, and such things, he supposed there would be very little passenger traffic at Company Station. “Company Station,” incidentally, is identified in company records by a number, associated with that of Abydos herself on the charts. That number, in effect, is its real name. To certain elements of those in the middle executive ranks of the company, it was known as “Abydos Station.” To those in the higher levels of the executive ranks of the company it was probably not known at all. Since those on Abydos were well aware they were on Abydos, and, it seems, did not wish to identify their location by a number, they spoke of it simply as we have, as “Company Station.” And Brenner and Rodriguez, as you may assume, also adopted this policy. It is not germane to our account, but one may speculate that there were several way stations, fueling depots, and such, throughout the galaxy, to which diverse companies held charters, which were also identified, at least locally, as “Company Station.” But this is not unusual; in many areas, even countries, there will be more than one town, or area, called by the same name. This normally works no hardship on anyone as long as the diverse locations of these towns, or polities, or areas, are clearly understood. Similarly, of course, numerous members of diverse species, rational and otherwise, bore similar names. We may assume, for example, that here and there in the galaxy there were several individuals who bore the names ‘Allan Brenner’ and ‘Emilio Rodriguez’. They are not such strange or unusual names. Too, some of these entities might not even have been of the same species as our Brenner and Rodriguez. For example, given the missionary work of the Humblers, earlier referred to, several members of Brenner’s and Rodriguez’ species had taken Humbler names. Similarly perhaps, for one reason or another, perhaps in virtue of amity or, more unfortunately, in virtue of derogatory judicial discrimination against certain minorities on various worlds, certain members of other species may have been assigned names usually found more commonly amongst members of the species of Brenner and Rodriguez. One should not totally discount either the possibility of an independent origin. Too, many members of the species of Brenner and Rodriguez, particularly those living on certain worlds, had abandoned traditional names in favor of more modern appellations. For example, Brenner and Rodriguez doubtless did not have the same names as those of remote forebears, say, of the sort who might have occupied limestone caves and concerned themselves with the working of stone, wood, and bone.

“How will we make contact with the Pons?” asked Brenner.

“They will meet us outside the fence,” said Rodriguez. The fence, incidentally, was a force fence. This could be important, given the proximity of Company Station to the forests. Indeed, it represented an enclave of civilization in the midst of such forests. One needed a pass from company officials, incidentally, to go outside the fence. It was not that there would normally be any difficulty in obtaining this permission, either to leave, or to come in. It was a more a matter of keeping track of things, or of an innocent security. On the other hand the company would not wish, for example, to have expensive equipment leave the station without authorization. Such equipment, surveying equipment, drilling equipment, samplers, mineralogical testing devices, and such, was valuable.

“When?” asked Brenner.

“Anytime,” said Rodriguez. “I checked with the agent and he says a camp of them has been located outside the fence for a week now, to the south.”

“In this weather?” asked Brenner. He had been given to understand at the agent’s office that the weather had been much like this for the past several days. To be sure, that was not that unusual at this time of year, in the early fall, in this latitude on Abydos. The ship, incidentally, was some five Commonworld Revolutions behind its originally projected schedule, as a result of a rerouting mandated by the company some months before Brenner and Rodriguez, after making diverse connections and transfers, had embarked on her, on Eos. As this earlier rerouting is not altogether unrelated to our account I shall mention that it involved a side trip to a world which, not concerning ourselves with its number, was known in this portion of the galaxy as Persia.

“There should be a bar around here,” said Rodriguez.

“They should let them inside the fence, give them shelter!” said Brenner.

“They probably don’t want in,” said Rodriguez. “They are a shy, secretive lot.”

“Perhaps they will be offended,” speculated Brenner, uneasily.

“Not at all,” said Rodriguez, looking about. “They are a charitable, gentle, long-suffering, innocent, humble crew. Compared to them a Humbler saint would come off looking like a king lizard.

Brenner did not think the allusion apt as in his experience the Humblers tended to be amongst the most arrogant of rational species, tending, for example, to be rather proud of their humility. They did, of course, regard themselves as superior, particularly in virtue of their moralities and teachings, to all other life forms. That, in itself, even if they were humble about it, did not seem too humble. On the other hand, most life forms, it seemed, at least of those capable of doing so, regarded themselves as superior to all other life forms. That seemed to be almost a necessary condition for qualifying for a rational life form. Brenner supposed it was healthy. He knew members of his own species, for example, who regarded their species as the superior life form in the universe, not that it was the strongest, or most successful, or most intelligent, or most prolific, or the most widespread, or the fiercest, or the most innocuous, or the kindest, or whatever, only that it was the best. Brenner himself, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, and his commitments to modernism and lifism, tended to share this belief. So, too, he suspected, did Rodriguez, who even went so far as to identify himself, alarmingly enough, as a species chauvinist. Brenner did think there was something interesting, or nice, at least, about his species. To be sure, as we have noted, it was held in an unusually low regard generally in the galaxy, and doubtless for several excellent reasons.

“There must be a bar somewhere around here,” said Rodriguez.

“Surely we must make contact!” said Brenner.

“Tomorrow morning will do,” said Rodriguez, stopping, puffing in the rain, wiping his face.

Too many Bertinian weeds, too much Velasian Heimat, thought Brenner. But, he, too, was tired. It was not easy slogging through the mud. More important, doubtless, was the fact that neither of them, as yet, had recovered their “surface legs,” so to speak. Both were still somewhat unsteady, despite the regime of shipboard exercises which Brenner, at least, had maintained. Indeed, this may help to explain why Brenner had occasionally lost his footing and slipped from the walking boards, those laid here and there across the mud. To be sure, several of the boards had not provided a secure footing, being slick with mud and water.

“Do you see a bar?” asked Rodriguez.

“Let’s find the hostel,” suggested Brenner, who was cold enough and miserable enough, to find Rodriguez’ suggestion about tomorrow morning less objectionable, and less an affront to scientific enthusiasm, than he might have otherwise. And Rodriguez, after all, was the senior colleague.

“That’s ahead,” said Rodriguez.

The rain, a few moments ago, had begun to fall more heavily again. Brenner squinted into the gloom. He then saw the sign, not lit this early in the day.

He started out immediately, gratefully, but in doing so, obstructed the passage, producing a collision with, a small figure, one of the few individuals Rodriguez and he had seen on the streets, once they had left the vicinity of the agent’s office. The small figure, clutching a cloak about itself, with a hood, cried out, angrily, and Brenner, slipping, stepped back, to apologize profusely. Briefly, within the folds of the wet hood, Brenner glimpsed a lovely, rounded face, almost exquisite, with an expression of anger, of petulance, with red lips and deep, dark eyes. And then the hood was pulled even more about the face, angrily, and she hurried on.

Brenner looked after her. He could see her bared, muddy calves within some circular garment, beneath the cloak. Beneath such a garment one might even, easily, put one’s hand.

“What is that she is wearing?” asked Brenner.

“It is called a ‘dress,’” said Rodriguez. As an anthropologist Brenner was familiar with this term, but he had never seen one on a person before, except, of course, in pictures, from distant worlds, and from the home world, going back to benighted times. Brenner shuddered. Such garments so debased and degraded a woman! Surely she would not, of her own will, have donned such a garment. Perhaps she was a whore, intent upon stimulating maleness. Such garments, on many worlds, were outlawed, because of dreaded moral and social consequences. But she did not seem to be a whore.

“That is what they give them to wear, outdoors,” said Rodriguez.

“‘Them’?” asked Brenner. “‘Give’?”

“Yes,” he said.

“She is barefoot,” said Brenner, looking after the small figure, disappearing now in the gloom, beyond the hostel entrance.

“It is easier to wash feet than clean boots,” said Rodriguez.

“I do not understand,” said Brenner.

“If it were colder, later in the year,” said Rodriguez, “she would have been given foot bindings, or boots, or something.”

“‘Given’?” asked Brenner.

“You do not think that women come of their own free will to Company Station, do you?” asked Rodriguez.

“Of course,” said Brenner.

“Oh, some do, I suppose,” said Rodriguez, “the mates of certain employees, or such.”

Brenner was alarmed, standing there in the mud, the rain. On the home world mating had been abolished, at least in any official or recognized sense. It had been established by suitable panels of experts, to which various judiciaries deferred in certain decisions, that that institution constituted an infringement of species freedom, at least in Brenner’s and Rodriguez’ species, if not in that of others, such as those of penguins, king lizards, sticklebacks, and inwits, that it humiliated all partners involved, in whatever numbers or arrangements, interfered with the indisputable role of the state in guiding socialization into correct channels, and was in clear violation of numerous rights which had been recently discovered. Mating now, and, indeed, sexual relations, and, in particular, heterosexual relations, with their appendant dangers of populationalism, was regarded on many worlds as either a crime, ranging from a felony to a misdemeanor, a civil wrong, or tort, or a vice, depending on the world. Breeding on several of these worlds, of course, tended to be supervised through various state boards. If the state had a right, for example, to require licenses for operating certain forms of equipment, for example, vehicles, or businesses, or to regulate the possession of, say, bladed weapons of more than two inches in length, surely it had the right, it seemed, to supervise the far more important matter of the number and nature of the constituents of the commonwealth itself. Advanced biological techniques, for example, for fertilization and storage, were helpful in these matters, as well as in vitro nourishment or, in most cases, recourse to host mothers. In some cases, gametes were so prepared and fused that the genetic endowments pertinent to a given organism could be traced to an indefinite number of “parents,” so to speak. Emotional relationships, such as love, had long ago been seen for the cruel and heinous traps they were, the ingenious devices of insidious forebears, designed to exploit and suppress certain portions of the species. To be sure, love, directed toward its proper object, such as a movement, party, or state, was encouraged, depending, of course, on the particular movement, party, or state in question. Various companies, incidentally, it had been recognized, particularly within the companies, were also fit objects for the exercise of this devotion. To be sure, many of these principles, prescriptions, and such, were by certain portions of these populations more honored in the breach than not. Many members of a species tended to remain incorrigible. It was also speculated that numerous dissenters, or even nonconformists, or even recusants, might exist in secret. The business of reconstructing a species in its own best interest, of transforming it, in effect, into something different, remained, as always, difficult. But such work constituted a challenge to the behavioral engineers, and, indeed, this challenge encouraged many to enter the field, often idealistic youths willing to take upon themselves the responsibility for the amelioration of the species. The approach, as might be supposed, was often two pronged, psychological and biological, the psychological aspects having to do with the control of conditioning programs, for the most part, aside from affirmative and negative control of the media, administered through supervised, centralized school systems, proven to be the most efficient in producing reliable educational output, and the biological aspects having to do with selective breeding, politicized eugenics controlled through screening, replication licenses, abortions, prenatal and postnatal, and, of course, genetic engineering. It is interesting to note that on the home world of Brenner and Rodriguez aborting a member of their own species, particularly one of certain groups, was regarded as unobjectionable, especially when done under the direction of the state, which often bore the expense of the operation, whereas aborting a member of another species, rational or subrational, was not, but rather constituted a felony. The rationale for this seemed to be that the state had the right to control its own body, in effect, its body politic. In many cases, of course, it must be admitted that the state accorded the liberty of such terminations to the mother, whether the conceiving mother or the host mother, and whether the member of the species was within a body or in a nourishment vat. Postnatal abortions at the option of either the conceiving mother or the host mother could be performed during the first several years of the organism’s life, the matter of being within or outside a body, or vat, being sensibly regarded as biologically irrelevant, given the gradualistic nature of organic development, which obviously continued from the first fusion of gametes at least until adulthood. Most states, on the other hand, retained abortion rights throughout the life of the organism, this provision making it possible to rectify any later-discovered oversight or to counter any irrational sentimentality on the part of a conceiving or host mother. On some worlds, in deference to biological facts, fathers were also given abortion rights over the member of the species, whether it was within the body of a mother or in a vat, these rights again extending to a certain point in the life of the organism, coterminous with the point to which the mother’s rights, whether a conceiving or host mother, extended. The exercise of these rights did not require mutual agreement because that would, as various jurists had pointed out, infringe the rights of the other partner. None of this, of course, compromised the rights of the state, which in all cases, as was proper, given its greater amount of information, the longer, broader perspectives at its disposal, and its wisdom, took priority. In speaking of incorrigibility, and such, it might be mentioned that Brenner, whereas he tended on the whole to be a. morally responsible citizen of the home world, did not favor abortion. His view seemed officially to be predicated on a suspected inconsistency between the putative morality of aborting a member of his own species and the putative immorality of aborting a member of another species. This also seemed congruent, at least in his mind, incidentally, with the thesis of the equivalence of life forms, he supposing that a member of his own species, such as it was, ought to be entitled to the same rights as those accorded to, say, squirrels, rabbits, or terbits. On the other hand, one suspects his views may also have been influenced by the fact that he had discovered, at the age of some twenty Commonworld years, that he himself had narrowly escaped abortion. Indeed, a vat attendant had refused to flush out the vat and place the fetus in the garbage. And, as Brenner was pleased that he had not been aborted, he tended to disapprove of abortion, in spite of its putative convenience to one party or another. To be sure, Brenner seldom expressed his reservations on these matters, which was perhaps just as well.

“You do not think then,” said Brenner, peering off through the rain in the direction in which the young woman had taken her way, picking her way through the mud with her bare feet, “that she is a “mate.”” He shuddered a little as he said that word, with its disgusting aspects of salaciousness.

“I would not suppose so, not here,” said Rodriguez.

For some reason Brenner was pleased with this speculation on the part of Rodriguez. Upon considering this, Brenner speculated that his relief must be due to the fact that the young woman was spared at least an implication in a relationship so carnal and deplorable, so antithetical to personness.

“But what then?” asked Brenner. He was dimly aware of an odd sense of expectation, or hopefulness, even an unworthy, excited hopefulness, in himself as he asked this question.

“Who knows?” asked Rodriguez.

“What do you think?” asked Brenner.

“She was barefoot,” mused Rodriguez.

“Yes?” said Brenner.

“Did you get a look at her neck, or her left wrist?” asked Rodriguez.

“Not really,” said Brenner.

“I didn’t notice any chain or anklet on her left ankle,” said Rodriguez.

“‘Chain’? ‘Anklet’?” said Brenner.

“To be sure,” said Rodriguez, “such would have to be dried, and cleaned, very carefully, if it were worn in this weather, in the rain and mud. It could, of course, have been removed, before she was sent on her errand.”

“An errand?” asked Brenner.

“One supposes so,” said Rodriguez. “This is hardly the sort of weather in which one would be likely to make social calls.”

“What is she?” asked Brenner.

“I don’t know,” said Rodriguez.

“Is she a—slave?” asked Brenner.

“Quite unlikely, for a number of reasons,” said Rodriguez. “First, she was angry when you obstructed her passage, when you struck into one another, and even cried out in anger, or made some sort of angry noise. It is highly unlikely that a slave would have done that. A slave might rather have been terrified that she might have been found displeasing. A slave would have been down on her knees or belly in the mud, in an instant, contrite and fearful, begging your forgiveness, perhaps trying to placate you by licking the mud from your boots. She would not wish to be beaten.”

“Men have such power over slaves?” asked Brenner, in awe.

“Of course,” said Rodriguez. “They are slaves.”

“But you do not think she is a slave?” asked Brenner.

“No,” said Rodriguez. “Are you disappointed?”

“Of course not!” said Brenner.

“The second reason, or second main reason,” said Rodriguez, “that I doubt that she is a slave is because this is Company Station, and it is highly unlikely that they would have slaves here. The company, you see, like many of the companies, at least in public matters, must maintain its image, on the home world and similar worlds.”

“I see,” said Brenner.

“It would scarcely do for the company to be discovered to be keeping slaves here,” said Rodriguez. “Think of the political embarrassment, and the leverage this might provide competitive companies.”

“I understand,” said Brenner.

“The company, however, doubtless keeps slaves one place or another,” he said, “in one out-of-the-way place or another, perhaps on vacation worlds, or resort worlds, such places, for their executives, or something along those lines. Too, of course, the company does have holdings on several worlds, even strong worlds, where there are slaves, and who is to say on such worlds to whom those slaves, in one holding or another, belong. Too, it is rumored that the company, and other companies as well, here and there, do dabble in the slave trade, that they capture or buy such merchandise, that they transport it, train it and sell it, such things.”

Brenner was silent.

“The Serian girls, the little blue beauties, are mostly bred now, of course,” he said.

“Like cattle?” asked Brenner.

“If you like,” said Rodriguez. “But they are, of course, also educated and trained.”

Brenner was silent.

“Some companies are doing this, here and there,” said Rodriguez, “with women of our species.”

Brenner looked at him, aghast.

“Yes,” said Rodriguez.

“But what of the woman we just saw?” asked Brenner. “What is she?”

“I would guess,” said Rodriguez. “That she is either a convict, or a delinquent assignee, or, more likely, a contract slut.”

“What?” asked Brenner.

“A woman who is contracted,” said Rodriguez. “This can come about in a number of ways. For example, she may have been subjected to contract in virtue of incurred debts, or she may have contracted herself for a certain fee, for a certain time, or this may have been done to her by a reformatory board, or a correctional board, many things. Her contract can be bought and sold and she, with the contract, passes from one hand to another.”

“And what are her duties for the contract holder,” asked Brenner.

“Whatever he wishes,” he said. “He holds the contract.”

“When does the contract expire?” asked Brenner.

“Normally when it is paid off,” said Rodriguez, “but, as she is considered a free woman, and is usually charged for her board and such, things are usually arranged in such a way that she cannot pay it off.”

“Then she is in effect a slave?” said Brenner.

“Her contract might be purchased by someone, who pays it off for her,” said Rodriguez.

“Is that likely?” asked Brenner.

“Not at all,” said Rodriguez.

“What is the usual outcome?” asked Brenner.

“The usual outcome?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Brenner.

“Usually, on one world or another, sooner or later, they find themselves reduced to bondage.”

“They become full slaves?”

“Exactly,” said Rodriguez.

“I see,” said Brenner.

“The hostel is ahead,” said Rodriguez, who had by now caught his breath.

“I thought you were looking for a bar,” said Brenner.

“I don’t see one, do you?” said Rodriguez.

“No,” said Brenner, making certain that he did not look too carefully.

“Let’s check in, and change our clothes,” said Rodriguez. “I want a shower. I want to be warm and dry. Then we can go out again.”

You can go out again, thought Brenner. I will stay in the hostel. He did not find Company Station an inviting locus for ambulatory peregrinations.

“The bars are probably off the main street,” said Rodriguez. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” said Brenner. To be sure, he still seemed short of breath. Too, his heart was pounding, and he was in a state of agitation, perhaps from his encounter with the young woman and his conversation with Rodriguez, or perhaps from the normal adjustments involved in adapting from the weightlessness, or comparative weightlessness, of the ship to the gravity of a world. In such a transition one recovers a sense of the cubic content, the weight, the reality, of one’s body, which, of course, after a period of adjustment, is forgotten.

Brenner then, bag in hand, trying to keep his footing in the mud, squinting his eyes against the precipitation, now again a drizzle, followed Rodriguez toward the double doors of the hostel, some two hundred yards, or so, down the street. He looked up once at the overhead tracks, which were now unburdened by cargos. The ship, he assumed, would have left by now. They had come to Company Station, on Abydos. There would not be another ship for months. Through the glassed paneling of the hostel’s doors shone a welcome illumination. Too, as they approached the building, the sign was lit. Doubtless this was a coincidence, and constituted no more than a belated concession to the misery and darkness of the day, but it cheered Brenner.