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Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Amazing Stories June 1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
_Steps 1, 2 and 3 went according to plan. Then she moved on to...._
STEP IV
By ROSEL GEORGE BROWN
ILLUSTRATOR VARGA
* * * * *
The first time Juba saw him, she couldn't help recalling thedescription of Ariovistus in _Julius Caesar_: _Hominem esse barbarum,iracundum, temerarium._
She unpinned the delicate laesa from her hair, for Terran spacemen areeducated, and if they have a choice, or seem to have, prefer seductionto rape.
Step. I. A soft answer turneth away wrath, leaving time for makingplans.
He caught the flower, pleased with himself, Juba saw, for notfumbling, pleased with his manhood, pleased with his morality indeciding not to rape her.
Rule a--A man pleased with himself is off guard.
* * * * *
He was big, even for a Man, and all hair, and in his heavy arms theveins were knotted and very blue. He had taken off his shirt, lettingthe air blow shamelessly over him.
It was true he was wonderful to see. And Juba knew that such is thenature of our violences, if she had been born into such a body, shetoo, would be a thing of wars and cruelty, a burner of cities, acarrier of death and desolation.
His face softened, as though the hand of Juno had passed over it.Softly he gazed at the flower, softly at Juba.
Rule b--This is the only time they are tractable.
"Vene mecum," she bade him, retreating into the glade--what was leftof it after his ship burned a scar into it. She ran lightly, so as togive the impression that if he turned, only so far as to pick up theweapon on the ground by his shirt, she would disappear.
"I follow," he said in her own language, and she stopped, surprisetangling her like a net. For she had been taught that Men speak onlyNew-language in our time, all soft tongues having been scorned todeath.
She should not have stopped. He looked back toward his gun. "Wait amoment," he said. His "a"'s were flat and harsh, his words awkwardlysequenced.
"Come with me," she said, and ran off again. She had been caught offguard.
Would he follow her? "Wait!" he cried, hesitated, and came after heragain. "I want to get my gun." He reached for Juba's hand.
She shrank back from him. "Mulier enim sum." Would he get the force ofthe particle? What could he fear from a mere woman?
When he had followed her far enough, when he had gone as far as hewould, for fear of losing his way from his ship, she let him take herhand.
"Terran sum," he said. And then, with meaning, "Homino sum."
"Then you are, naturally, hungry," Juba said. "You have no need tocome armed. Let me take you to my home. There are only my sisters andI and the mother."
"Yes," he said, and took her other hand.
She blushed, because he was strangely attractive, and because thethought came to her that his ways were gentle, and that if he spoke asoft tongue, perhaps he was not like other Men.
Rule c--They are all alike.
"Come," Juba said, turning, "We are not far from the cottages."
* * * * *
She watched, during the meal, to see how he impressed the sisters andthe mother. The little sisters--all bouncy blond curls and silly withlaughter--their reaction to everything was excitement. And themother--how could she seem so different from her daughters when theywere so completely of her? They had no genes but her genes. And yet,there she sat, so dignified, offering a generous hospitality, but socold Juba could feel it at the other end of the table. So cold--butthe Man would not know, could not read the thin line of her taut lipsand the faint lift at the edges of her eyes.
Juba brought him back to the ship that night, knowing he would notleave the planet.
"Mother," Juba said, kneeling before the mother and clasping her kneesin supplication. "Mother ... isn't he ... different?"
"Juba," the mother said, "there is blood on his hands. He has killed.Can't you see it in his eyes?"
"Yes. He has a gun and he has used it. But mother--there is agentleness in him. Could he not change? Perhaps I, myself...."
"Beware," the mother said sternly, "that you do not fall into your owntraps."
"But you have never really known a man, have you? I mean, except forservants?"
"I have also," she said, "never had an intimate conversation with alion, nor shared my noonday thoughts with a spider."
"But lions and spiders can't talk. That's the difference. They have nounderstanding."
"Neither have men. They are like your baby sister, Diana, who isreasonable until it no longer suits her, and then the only differencebetween her and an animal is that she has more cunning."
"Yes," Juba said resignedly, getting to her feet. "If thus it isWritten. Thank you, Mother. You are a wellspring of knowledge."
"Juba," Mother said with a smile, pulling the girl's cloak, for sheliked to please them, "would you like him for a pet? Or your personalservant?"
"No," she said, and she could feel the breath sharp in her lungs. "Iwould rather.... He would make a good spectacle in the gladiatorialcontests. He would look well with a sword through his heart."
She would not picture him a corpse. She put the picture from her mind.But even less would she picture him unmanned.
He would rather die strong than live weak. And Juba--why should shehave this pride for him? For she felt pride, pangs as real as thepangs of childbirth. There are different kinds of pride, but the worstkind of pride is pride in strength, pride in power. And she _knew_that was what she felt. She was sinning with full knowledge and shecould not put her sin from her.
Juba ran straight to the altar of Juno, and made libation with her owntears. "Mother Juno," she prayed, "take from me my pride. For pride isthe wellspring whence flow all sins."
But even as she prayed, her reason pricked at her. For she was taughtfrom childhood to be reasonable above all things. And, having spokenwith this Man, having found him courteous and educated, she could notbelieve he was beyond redemption simply because he was a Man. It wastrue that in many ways he was strange and different. But were they notmore alike than different?
And as for his violences--were they much better, with theirgladiatorial combats? Supposed to remind them, of course, of thebloodshed they had abhorred and renounced. But who did not secretlyenjoy it? And whose thumbs ever went up when the Moment came? And thismaking of pets and servants out of Men--what was that but the worstpride of all? Glorying that a few incisions in the brain and elsewheregave them the power to make forever absurd what came to them with theseeds at least of sublimity.
Juba stood up. Who was she to decide what is right and what is wrong?
She faced the world and its ways were too dark for her, so she facedaway.
* * * * *
There was a sound in the brush near her, and she wished the starswould wink out, for the sound had the rhythm of her Mother'sapproach, and Juba wanted to hide her face from her mother.
The mother frowned at Juba, a little wearily. "You have decided toforsake the world and become a Watcher of the Holy Flame. Am I notright?"
"You are right, mother."
"You think that way you avoid decision, is that not right?"
"That is right," Juba ans
wered.
She motioned the girl to the edge of the raised, round stone and sat."It is impossible to avoid decision. The decision is already made.What you will not do, someone else will do, and all you will haveaccomplished is your own failure."
"It is true," Juba said. "But why must this be done, Mother? This is asilly ceremony, a thing for children, this symbolic trial. Can we notjust say, 'Now Juba is a woman,' without having to humiliate this poorMan, who after all doesn't...."
"Look into your heart, Juba," the mother interrupted. "Are yourfeelings silly? Is this the play of children?"
"No," she admitted. For never before had she been thus tormentedwithin herself.
"You think that this Man is different, do you not? Or perhaps that allmen are not so savage of soul as you have been taught.
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