What am I doing here? he wondered, ruefully.
But, of course, he knew. He had saved himself from a confrontation with a mad boy by, personally, introducing the game element. And so, that same boy was now eager to introduce him to a shining surface on the wall, whereby, when you pressed a small decoration, that part of the surface changed color. They were most of the colors that he knew; and the idea was that if you could be the first to line up one color the length of that surface either up, or sideways, then you were the winner.
When a game was won, the pattern was restored for a new game by pushing a decoration that was off to one side: a control button whereby a computer promptly set up a new, hidden, winning line and winning color.
There were supposed to be clues, as the young emperor explained it, in the color sequence that turned on whenever a decoration changed color. If you were smart you could eventually read the clues, and decide which color would be the next winner, and which direction it would win.
Gosseyn was smart, and, after he lost three games to a delighted younger winner, he saw how he could win the fourth game. After a momentary hesitation, he, in fact, decided to win it.
The boy’s reaction to the victory of his opponent was . . . he whirled. He ran across the wide part of the floor, dodging tables and chairs. Moments later, he was pounding on a beautiful blue door in one corner, and yelling: “Mother, mother, he beat me at scroob!”
There was a pause. And then the door opened; and a young woman emerged. Or, at least, Gosseyn assumed that the blonde individual, who was dressed in a man-like uniform, with trousers, but with only a colored shirt over the upper part of the body, and no jacket . . . that this fine-faced individual was, in fact, the mother, so urgently summoned moments before.
And, indeed, when she spoke it was a woman’s musical voice. What she said, was, “Sir, Enin told me about you. He doesn’t seem to remember your name clearly.”
Gosseyn pronounced it for her, and added, “I think I can show the emperor what the clues are, that lead to the winning condition.”
He continued, “He knows some of them, but there are a few special signals.”
As he made the explanation, he was noticing her slim form, and, her even-featured, distinctive face. And his judgment was that the emperor’s mother would be a real beauty, properly arrayed in silks, or in dresses, generally.
He also noticed the name she had called her son: Enin . . . I’m really getting fast information on this big ship, and from top echelon people—
It could be that that had to continue to be his purpose: learn, find out, get details.
The woman was speaking again: “No more games right now, Enin. It’s time for your lessons. Off you go, dear.”
She leaned over, and kissed him on the right cheek. “Leave Mr. Gosseyn here. I’d like to speak to him.”
“All right, mother.” The boy’s voice sounded subdued. He thereupon turned to Gosseyn, and said in an almost beseeching tone: “You’re not going to be a problem of any kind, are you, Mr. Gosseyn?”
Gosseyn shook his head, smiling. “I’m your friend and fellow game player from now on.”
The small face lighted up. “Oh, boy! We’re going to have a great time.” He turned happily to the woman, and said, “You treat him right, mother.”
The woman nodded. “I’ll treat him just like I did your father.”
“Oh, my gosh!” The boy trembled. The blue eyes widened. “You mean—maybe you and Mr. Gosseyn will go into your bedroom, and lock the door, and won’t come out for an hour, the way you and dad used to do?”
Before she could answer, he turned to Gosseyn. “Sir, if she takes you into her room, will you tell me afterwards what the conversation was?”
“Only with your mother’s permission,” Gosseyn replied, “will I ever reveal anything about a private conversation?”
“Oh, damn!”
“That,” continued Gosseyn, “applies also to anything you and I discuss in private. And, as one example, I won’t tell anyone that I beat you at one game of scroob—without your permission.”
“Oh!” Pause. The face looked acceptant. Then: “I guess that makes sense.”
The mother was taking her son by the hand. “All right, darling, off you go.” Whereupon, she led him to a brown door at the far right, opened it, and called out to someone who was evidently there: “Your pupil has arrived. Time for lessons.”
It was a little difficult for Gosseyn to visualize the teacher’s reaction to those words. Whoever it was might not be anymore happy about this pupil than, for example, Breemeg and his fellow courtiers. Unless—
Could it be that here in The Place, it was a normal family life that the boy emperor lived? Here, with his mother as an accepted and beloved guide.
But as for himself, and his progress toward anything that mattered—he could see nothing . . . I’m being shunted around from one minor situation to another. Basically, it was a zero situation.
Standing there, he couldn’t even imagine anything that he should do. He was a prematurely awakened, duplicate Gilbert Gosseyn. It still seemed true that there must be a significant reason for his being discovered by the Dzan. But it was also likely that Gosseyn Two could handle all necessary investigations relating to the arrival of these people in this area of space.
Unfortunately, now that he was conscious, the idea of deliberately returning to the space capsule—which was certainly one of the options—was not something he cared to contemplate.
So here he was, an unneeded Gosseyn, who presumably—if he could help it—would be around for a while. But he had better leave the serious business to his predecessor.
“. . . How about that, Gosseyn Two?—”
The reply, as it came into his mind, seemed to have a smile associated with it: “My other self, you are in the center of the biggest event in the space-time of this galaxy; and I’m way out here with a few important friends, watching from a distance. I should tell you that Enro seems to be the most disturbed by what has happened, and would like to use our transport method, personally, to come over there, and talk to these people. So far I have resisted the idea; but even Crang would like to visit with you on the command ship. Perhaps, now that you are on friendly terms with both the emperor and his mother, something could be arranged.”
Gosseyn Three replied mentally, “For all I know, they would be interested in having visitors. But maybe not right now.”
Gosseyn Two’s reply was: “It isn’t settled in our minds here that it would be a good idea at all. So we’ll discuss it later.”
Gosseyn Three did not pursue the matter. It had been a swift mental conversation. But even as it was, the woman had had time to close the classroom door, had turned, and started in his direction.
It seemed to be a perfectly normal moment in time and space. As Gosseyn watched her coming towards him, he had a simple, unsophisticated thought; and so he said, apologetically, “Madam, I imagine I should now have someone take me back to my assigned apartment until your son has further need of me.”
The young woman had paused while he was still speaking. And now she stood gazing at him with an odd expression on her face. The expression included a hint of a smile. Then:
“That will be in a little over an hour,” she said. And added, “The lesson, I mean.”
She was the Greatest Lady of this realm; and so the naming of the time lapse had no significance for Gosseyn; made no personal connection. What did strike him once more was the perfect use of English. But even that mystery was something he had no intention of discussing with her. That was for scientists to deal with. Later.
Again, considering all that he had heard, he deduced that the boy’s father had somehow died in his late twenties or early thirties. The age, of course, was an earth comparison. But, presumably, imperial widows of Dzan did not succeed their husbands in power and position.
And that fleeting thought, also, ran its rapid, unsuspecting course.
The . . . unexpected . . .
came instants later, as the young woman said, earnestly, “You’re the first man to whom Enin has responded as a boy might to a father. And I’m wondering, now that I’ve seen you, if you would marry me, and try to do for him what no one else apparently can do?”
A faraway thought floated into Gosseyn’s mind. It was a thought he had had before, but it came now with a special impact: “At this moment, I am utterly surprised. I feel as if I have been taken off guard the way no one with General Semantics training ever should be.”
The reality was that he was not prepared for such a proposal.
. . . Would a refusal or even hesitation in answering be regarded as a mortal insult? There was, of course, a type of man who would instantly accept all the opportunities of this situation. But men trained in the General Semantics orientation were not such a type.
Aloud, he offered his first barrier: “Your majesty, the honor which you offer me, may not be a wise action on your part. It is possible we should discuss what might be the repercussion of such a marriage for you and your son.”
The young woman smiled. There was no sign that she realized that she had, in effect, been rejected. She said, “That’s a very thoughtful remark. But it does not take into account that it is now two years since my husband and lover, was killed. Therefore, before we have any discussion about the long run situation, I wish you to come into my bedchamber, which, as you know—” she nodded toward the blue door at her left—“adjoins this sitting room.”
She went on earnestly, “I need very badly to be made love to by the first man I’ve met since his death, who has instantly and automatically aroused in me feelings of desire. Come!”
She had paused about eight feet from him. Now, she walked over and put her hand on his arm. As Gosseyn unresistingly allowed himself to be led in the indicated direction, there were more of those fleeting thoughts;
. . . The problem of the man-woman relationship were not obviously the subject of General Semantics discussion. Men had from time immemorial on earth had a strong need for sexual release. Presumably, this could be and in some instances was, satisfied by many women. But mostly the individual male found himself attracted specifically to a female of his own age, or younger, who, according to psychological theory, reminded him at some deep of his being, of his mother. So, essentially, a young woman who elicited a love response, brought about a fixation in him. And she had to do numerous unmother-like things before the feeling of need diminished. There were, of course, many instances whereby, presently some other woman reminded him even more strongly of his mother. And so, in due course, he was over there.
The Gosseyn bodies had never had a mother in this galaxy. No doubt, a million or more years ago, before the Great Migration, a child had been born in the traditional fashion. And it could even be that that child’s early relationship with that long, long, long ago mother still permeated his subconscious memories. But it would be a little difficult to determine which of his feelings related to an ancient mother, and which were product of his acceptance that a man should eventually have a relationship with a woman.
Incredibly, his first opportunity to have such a relationship already had hold of his arm. And, as he went with her, he could see once again that she had unusually good features, and a splendid female body. At the very instant that he noticed that—again—she made a remarkable statement. She said: “You remind me of my father. So I feel completely confident that I have found the man most suitable, not only for Enin, but for me.”
Moments after that they were through the open blue door; and she was pushing it shut behind her.
Gosseyn heard the click of a lock catching.
CHAPTER
8
It was surely—Gosseyn Three thought ruefully—not one of the great moments of history.
. . . A superman—in its way that was a proper description for the Gilbert Gosseyns of this universe—was being pressured by a human-type female to participate in what appeared to be a normal sex act. The superman was resisting the opportunity; and yet he was a single man with no previous commitment to any other woman. At least equally significant neither of his predecessors, who also had no known commitments,—according to his joint memory with them—had to date had an intimate relation with a woman.
Only two living women had had an opportunity to participate in such a relationship with a Gosseyn: Leej, and the former Patricia Hardie—So, perhaps the latter could offer an explanation as to why nothing had happened the night that she had spent in the same bedroom with Gilbert Gosseyn One.
With these numerous, sketchy considerations motivating him, as the bedroom door closed behind him Gilbert Gosseyn Three spoke mentally to his Alter Ego, far away in space:
“Can you ask the lady for an explanation, Mr. Gosseyn Two?”
He realized that he was hoping for some bits of data that would help him to deal with this situation. And already there was a second awareness in him: that anything intimate he did with anyone would automatically be registered in the mind of Gosseyn Two.
It seemed to be an additional barrier to special actions of any kind, requiring something to be agreed upon the basis . . . I’ll-look-the-other-way-if-you-will . . . sort of thing.
He was aware that, as he had these new thoughts, Gosseyn Two was questioning the former Patricia Hardie.
There was a pause. Then the young woman’s “voice” spoke through the brain of that faraway Gosseyn Two. The “tone” seemed faintly amused, as if it were a subject about which she hadn’t previously had any thought; but if she had it would have been funny.
She said: “If you will consult the joint Gosseyn memory, you will recall that we were all in quite a tense situation; and that I was, unknown to the other involved persons, the sister of Enro—with all of those automatic restrictions on my behavior. And, besides, I had already met Eldred; and my fascination with the philosophy of General Semantics made him a very special person for me. Also, I should mention that Gilbert Gosseyn One seemed very much a protective type individual to me, someone upon whom I could depend.”
She added, “Now, that we have a Gosseyn Two and a Gosseyn Three, both alive at the same time, we can realize that the First Gosseyn was, in fact, a different living being; and that subsequent Gosseyn duplicate bodies having his memories is certainly interesting, and even fascinating. But you can deduce that, taking into account all the factors I have mentioned, that night he and I spent together we were not likely to engage in an intimate personal relationship.”
She seemed to be smiling again, as she concluded: “Somehow, I cannot bring myself to feel horribly sorry for you in your predicament. But I do have the thought that if Gosseyn One’s reason for not trying to take advantage of the situation had to do with General Semantics, then we have another worthwhile moral consideration operating in the world. As you know, there are many good men in the universe, who have their own fine morality to restrain them from criminal and unkind actions; and I approve that this is so.”
The analysis by the former Patricia Hardie was somewhat long, but essentially convincing—so it seemed to Gosseyn Three. Equally important, the time involved for her to voice it appeared to be exactly what he needed to have a moral consideration of his own.
“Of course,” he thought then, “what else?”
It seemed to be a cortical decision that he had come to. And so, there he stood near the entrance of what, even by fleeting first glance, was unmistakably a luxurious bedroom—stood and shook his head gently at the woman, who had half-turned and was looking back at him.
“My philosophy, and also my sense of protectiveness for you—” those were his rejecting words—“do not allow me to take advantage of your good feelings for me.”
In a way it was a little late. The woman had already removed the strange unwomanly shirt, exposing some kind of filmy undergarment and the upper halves of two bare breasts. This became even more evident, and intimate, as, after he spoke, she turned all the way around and stood facing him. It was difficult
to decide from her facial expression, and slightly bent forward body position, if she was in a state of shock.
“Your philosophy?” she echoed finally. “You mean—a religion?”
“General Semantics, it’s called,” said Gosseyn as blandly as he could.
“And—” she had straightened—“it forbids sex between a woman and a man without marriage?”
Since General Semantics did not expressly forbid sex in any situation, Gosseyn Three had the wry awareness that his reasoning was being challenged at a rather high speed.
But he remained calm. He said:
“A General Semanticist, madam, is trained to take into consideration more of the realities of a situation than a person without such training.”
He continued: “I have to admit that I have not available inside me at this moment a clear picture of all the factors that a woman General Semanticist might take into account in dealing with the instinctual behavior of herself as a devoted mother and former empress, who is also a widow. But, fortunately, we have more obvious reasons for not acting hastily in this situation.”
The woman had been staring at him, as he spoke the analysis. Now, she shook her head in what seemed to be a chiding manner.
“Was that,” she asked, “a typical, long-winded sample of your day-to-day conversation as a General—” she hesitated—“semanticist?”
Gosseyn glanced mentally back over his analysis; and it was surely the most involved statement that had recently been spoken by any of the Gosseyns.
Nonetheless, he braced himself, and said, “Madam, I want you to picture the situation that exists here. A short time ago, a stranger—myself—was brought aboard this vessel. Within an hour or so after he is awakened by ship scientists, the emperor’s mother announces she will marry this stranger. The outward appearance is—would be—that I have used a malign mental power of some kind to influence the emperor’s mother. Once such a thought was presented to the officers of this great ship, they would come charging to your defense. Nothing would dissuade them from taking whatever action they deemed necessary.”
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