The Totems of Abydos

by John Norman

  “Undoubtedly,” said Brenner.

  “Because the contract slut is not a slave, but a free woman, and can be held openly on worlds on which slavery might remain a sensitive issue, as it is not on many other worlds, more progressive worlds.”

  “‘Progressive’?” asked Brenner.

  “To be sure, an illusive word,” smiled Rodriguez. “You may define progress as constant change, even racing from one stultifying madness to another, but it need not be defined that way. For example, it may be thought of rather as the attempt to approximate an ideal. If that is so, then refinement, restoration, and such, if they result in a situation which more closely approximates the ideal, would constitute progress. It is not clear, for example, that continuing to go down a wrong road constitutes progress. Also, you must be aware that on many worlds certain institutions, such as explicit social stratifications, aristocracies, slaveries, and such, have been introduced, to counter the decline, disintegration, bankruptcy, and chaos of failed systems, to succeed them with more honest, more realistic forms. Not every world has to be founded on lies.”

  “Let us not speak further of these things!” said Brenner.

  “It is interesting,” said Rodriguez, looking at the bed to whose surface he had ordered the maid.

  “What is interesting?” said Brenner.

  “On your salary,” said Rodriguez, “you presumably could not afford to buy her contract, that of the maid, the free woman, but with the same salary, on many worlds, such as Sybaris and Megara, it would be quite easy for you to own one or more slaves.”

  “Please,” protested Brenner.

  “You could do with them what you wish,” said Rodriguez.

  “Please,” said Brenner.

  “They are beautiful, and cheap, and hot,” said Rodriguez.

  Brenner looked at him.

  “It is largely a matter of legality, and politics, and supply and demand, such things,” said Rodriguez.

  “Wait for me,” said Brenner. He looked at the bell on the wall. He trembled a little. “Do not go out without me. Do not leave me here alone. Wait for me.”

  “All right,” said Rodriguez, agreeably enough.

  Brenner then, carrying his robe, and a change of clothing, entered the bath.

  Rodriguez pulled a notebook out of his bag and sat down in a chair. It was nice, in a way, to sit in a chair and stay there, without the webbing.

  In a short while Brenner had emerged, dressed, from the bath.

  He then accompanied Rodriguez from the room. In the hall they encountered a maid, she whom Rodriguez had ordered to the bed. It seemed their encounter was inadvertent. She had some towels over one arm. Rodriguez did not speak to her as he passed her.

  Neither did Brenner. She did not raise her eyes as they passed.

  * * *

  The zard, the proprietor of the bar now patronized by Rodriguez and Brenner, as I have mentioned, had now returned to his desk, from his short journey to the front door, to reconnoiter the weather, which he had done to his apparent dissatisfaction. It was a poor night for business in Company Station. Too, it was not, in general, the sort of weather of which his kind approved. To be sure, it was not exactly the sort of weather which was universally greeted with enthusiasm by the species of Rodriguez and Brenner either. The girl was still at Brenner’s thigh, with her head down. She, as I have indicated, clung to his leg, as before. This disturbed Brenner considerably, but he could not deny that there was something in him that was not dissatisfied to have her there. Certainly he was still cognizant of the feel of her body, the softness of it, as it has been pressed so closely against him in her terror, her apparent fear of the proprietor, that unspeakable, luscious softness, which, he had not doubted was intended to be well betrayed by the silk she wore. That softness, as we recall, had alarmed and disturbed him. He had then taken a drink, angrily.

  “Get away,” said Brenner, angrily, to the girl.

  She looked up at him, frightened. “Please do not send me away,” she begged.

  “Your lips are painted,” said Brenner.

  They had not been painted when he had seen her before, several streets away, earlier in the day, for, as you have doubtless suspected, this is the same young woman into whom he had inadvertently struck earlier, in their small accident, the one who had cried out so angrily, of whom he had caught but a brief, striking glimpse, the one who had then hurried away, in anger, making her way barefoot through the cold mud, clutching the cloak about her. Naturally she seemed much different now, kneeling at his feet, made-up, in a bit of silk.

  “It is called ‘lipstick,’” she said.

  “What is on your upper eyelids,” he asked.

  “Eye shadow,” she said.

  He continued to look at her. “There are various cosmetics,” she said, “eye shadow, eye liner, mascara, such things.”

  “You are painted,” he said.

  “Some men like it,” she said.

  “I am not a man,” said Brenner. “I am a person.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said.

  “To be sure, Brenner thought of himself as a man, at least secretly, and would surely have referred to himself as such in his conversations with Rodriguez, and with others whom he might well know, and trust, but the title ‘man’ in this context made him distinctly uneasy, for it suggested something quite different from the creature at his feet, who was clearly not a man, but something remarkably, wonderfully, excitingly, and marvelously different. Brenner was not willing to fulfill any expectations, or accept any obligations or responsibilities, which might seem to be involved with being a man, at least in a situation such as this. He did not wish to risk relating to her as might have a member of the opposite sex. He did not wish to insult her. Too, he felt safer clinging to the myth of sameness. To be sure, though it disturbed him, he was not really displeased to be addressed as ‘sir’ by this delectable creature. If there were some subtle inconsistency here, he did not find it objectionable. Besides, by the waiters in restaurants, by the male attendants in conveyances, in hotels, and such, he would often have been addressed as ‘sir’. And the locution, he reminded himself, was probably required of her by her contract holder. He thought of having her address him by the proper neuteristic term of ‘pers’, but then, for some reason, decided against it. He would permit her, devolved though it might be, to continue to address him not only by an appellation indicative of respect, but by one, in her case, appropriate to a member of an opposite sex.

  “Do you like them?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I think they make me pretty,” she said. As she had looked down and whispered this, her thighs had moved slightly under the silk. This suggested to him that there might be more involved here than a simple matter of aesthetics. Rather he suspected that the cosmetics, perhaps because of some meaning or other, also made her feel in a certain way, a way which, it seemed, she might not be likely to mention explicitly to Brenner.

  “They demean you,” said Brenner.

  “Then I like being demeaned in this way,” she said.

  “They make you attractive, as a decorated animal,” he said, irritably.

  “It is my hope that they make me attractive,” she said.

  “And,” said Brenner, irritably, deciding to risk a shot in the dark, “they also make you feel attractive.”

  She looked up, startled.

  “And you personally find them arousing, and exciting,” he said.

  She put her head down, quickly. “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

  Brenner was pleased with this outcome. His shots, it seemed, had exactly and decisively struck home. To be sure, if Rodriguez, and other renegades, was right, and females really had sexual needs, and such, perhaps the shots, so to speak, had not been fired so much in the dark as he had thought. She kept her head down. He then became vaguely conscious for the first time, in a real sense, of the power he held over this creature. He did not, of course, bot
her to mention the effects of the cosmetics upon himself. He had heard, incidentally, that on some worlds slaves were by custom refused cosmetics. He thought such worlds must be rather puritanical. To be sure, it seemed strange to think of a world as puritanical on which beautiful slaves might have to labor for months, striving to improve their services, and to become more and more pleasing, before they would be thrown a garment.

  “I think you should leave now,” said Brenner.

  She lifted her head. She looked up at him, frightened. “Please do not send me away,” she begged.

  Brenner looked down at her. He then became even more conscious of his power over her. This pleased him. She was, in some way he was not clear about, at his mercy.

  “Why not?” he asked. After all, he was of the home world. Surely he should not keep this person beside him, in this degraded position, one of respect, at his feet.

  “I am sorry I was cross with you earlier today,” she said.

  “It is nothing,” said Brenner. “The accident was trivial. It was of no importance, and it was as much, or more, my fault than yours.”

  “But I did not behave well!” she said.

  This interested Brenner, that she should even consider the matter as to whether or not she had behaved well. Certainly the women of the home world, or the typical women of the home world, never concerned themselves with such things. To be sure, this woman was not on the home world, but on this world, and was under contract, apparently to the proprietor of the bar. Brenner gathered that there might be sanctions on the behavior of such women, those on this world, or at least those under contract on this world. She was not, of course, a slave. He did not doubt, of course, that the sanctions placed on a slave for behaving well might be quite severe, and even extreme.

  “You did not expect to see me tonight,” said Brenner, “or to find yourself where you are now.”

  She put down her head, not responding to this. Her hair was dark brown, and glossy. Doubtless it had been washed, and brushed and combed, before she had come to the floor tonight. He considered that dark, glossy hair, and the compact, sweet curves of her in the silk. Her entire body had been washed, he did not doubt. Her feet, which had been in the mire earlier, were clean, except for some dust on the soles. On her left ankle, which seemed the place for such things, there was a chain and disk. It was similar to, but of a different construction from that which the maids in the hostel had worn. Brenner liked her chain and disk better. The chain was black-enameled, as was the lock, and the disk was larger. Indeed, he liked her better than the maid at the hostel. He was glad he had not remained at the hostel. Then he put such a horrid thought from his mind.

  She looked up at him.

  Brenner found the bar very hot. It was not merely that he was emotionally disturbed by the proximity of the young woman, but the temperature was objectively hot. Zards tended to like warm temperatures, even very warm temperatures, and accordingly tended to keep their dwelling areas, places of business, and such, quite warm. Even the girl, who wore almost nothing, would presumably have felt the temperature to be quite warm, perhaps even too warm.

  Brenner sniffed the air. He could not place the aura, but he liked it. He had barely sensed it before. It was quite subtle.

  He was not certain of its source, but he suspected it. Had he thrust his mouth and lips to the girl’s throat its source would have been clear to him.

  “It is perfume,” she said. “I have a better upstairs.”

  “It is a substance you put upon your body?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “You are apparently intended to be found delightful by many senses,” he said.

  “Yes, sir,” she said.

  “I think you may go now,” said Brenner.

  “Please be kind to me,” she said.

  Rodriguez laughed, and she looked at him with fear.

  “I have no intention of being unkind,” said Brenner.

  “I am sorry!” she said. “I am sorry I behaved badly!”

  “No apology is necessary,” said Brenner. “As I told you it was as much, or more, my fault than yours.”

  “Please forgive me!” she said.

  “No forgiveness is necessary,” said Brenner.

  “I do not want to be tied naked to a post in the back yard!” she said.

  “How is that done?” asked Brenner.

  “My hands are tied behind my back,” she said, “and I am roped to it by the neck!”

  “Excellent,” said Rodriguez.

  She cast him a glance of fear, as at one who knew the handling of women.

  “Barbarous,” said Brenner, disbelievingly.

  “Do you want me to remove my silk?” she asked, looking up at Brenner.

  The thought of seeing her so, then with only the appurtenance on her ankle, the chain, the lock, and disk, almost made Brenner scream with joy.

  “No!” he said. “No!”

  She looked back, fearfully, at the zard, but the creature did not look up.

  “Remove the chain,” said Brenner.

  “I cannot do that,” she said.

  This pleased Brenner exceedingly, that she could not remove that device.

  At this point the other woman, the blonde, the waitress, or whatever we might wish to call her, she who had seemed to share some secrecy with Rodriguez, emerged from the back, bearing a large tray, steaming with food.

  Brenner was famished.

  The blonde set the tray on one table, a serving table, and then, carefully, in a certain order, set another table. She glanced back once at the zard, but he paid her no attention. Then she gave Rodriguez a look of secretive confidence which he received impassively and declined to return. In a few moments the other table was prepared, complete with napkins, utensils, drinks, a nail wash and such. These arrangements were traditional with zards. Also, it might be mentioned that zards tended to use females of various species, including their own, for such services. It might also be mentioned that such females must in serving serve the males first and the females second. They are forbidden to do otherwise, and disagreements as to this sort of thing will elicit an invitation from the management for disgruntled patrons to depart. Zard restaurants were not common on the home world.

  “Sirs,” said the blonde, turning to face them.

  The table was prepared.

  Rodriguez brought his glass of Heimat to the table, and Brenner followed suit, with his cooler. The girl who had been at Brenner’s feet, he noted, followed him, as though he might represent some sort of security for her, to the table. There were two rings set in the floor, one on either side of the table. These made Brenner nervous. Their purpose was not clear to him. One was a bit in front of him to his right, and the other was similarly situated with respect to Rodriguez, to his right, who took his place across from him.

  “Is everything satisfactory, sirs?” asked the blonde. To Brenner, it seemed, again, as though she might somehow regard herself as playing a role. He wondered if she might not be speaking more for the benefit of the creature in the back than for theirs. Certainly her posing of the question, its tone, and such, to those to whom the language was familiar at least, had failed to ring of authenticity. Again there seemed to be some secret between her and Rodriguez. She was certainly attractive, however, thought Brenner, with those long legs, with that long, blond hair, and the yellow silk, in spite of whatever real or imagined meretriciousness, or falseness, might be in her manner. Yes, thought Brenner, she was ravishing. The brunette who had been at his feet at the bar now knelt docilely to his right. The blonde, it seemed, scarcely took note of her. The brunette was shorter than the blonde. Both, within the parameters set by their diverse heights, were superbly curved, the blonde in a tall, spare, linear loveliness and the brunette, shorter, with a more compact lusciousness. Brenner supposed that the blonde, from her manner and such, regarded herself as the superior of the two. Also, he recalled she had been summoned first to the floor and, of the two of them, Rodriguez and hims
elf, had addressed herself to Rodriguez, who would have been easily recognized as first between them. The zard had then, perhaps as an afterthought, summoned forth the brunette for Brenner. From Brenner’s point of view, however, he was not dissatisfied with the arrangement. As a personal matter he found the brunette far more exciting. If the blonde was ravishing, then the brunette was even more ravishing. The blonde, incidentally, was of a type which many men of the home world, those who dared to speak of such things, professed to admire. Perhaps this had to do with her height and linearity, which tended to be more masculinistic than feminine, or, at least, than typically feminine. In this fashion, Brenner supposed that it might seem to many men of his world to constitute a less dangerous object of consideration, triggering fewer induced guilts, aversions, and such, than would the frank and delicious consideration of the luscious forms of more statistically normal females. Herein, one might speculate, could be found certain consequences of the negativistic conditionings to which the males of the home world were subjected. To be sure it was possible that there might exist another appeal of such a form, as well, a more obscure appeal, to be sure, but one perhaps also connected, ultimately, at least for the most part, with the negativistic conditionings. At any rate, Brenner preferred the brunette. Also, as some sop to his preferences, and as a reassurance to his vanity, he recalled reading somewhere, in a footnote somewhere, into which the most meaningful materials were often inserted, that on the openly stratified worlds, on all of which it seemed there existed the institution of female slavery, that the shorter, more luscious females, such as the brunette, tended to bring the highest prices. Indeed, more linear women, such as the blonde, tended to be held in a certain contempt, and were often consigned to the most menial duties. To be sure, it was admitted that they could be taught to jump and thrash, and serve, as well as their more normal sisters.

  “Kneel there,” said Rodriguez to the blonde, indicating a place to his right, at the ring.

  She looked at him, startled, but did as he had said.

  She looked well there. Her back, of course, was to Brenner.