“It wouldn’t work if you had as many women as men,” said Questioner.
Onsofruct and D’Jevier plodded on, blank-faced.
Madame said, “Our system works for us. It’s coercive, yes, but no more so than every other system. We know Haraldson’s edicts say people shouldn’t be coerced in matters of reproduction, but you know as well as we do they’ve always been coerced, women particularly. Here, we tried to balance things.”
“I give you credit for good intentions,” said Questioner in a preoccupied tone. “I will report you, of course, but chances are the Council of Worlds will agree with you. Your system works. And it probably makes no difference, for you’re sufficiently at risk over the business of the Timmys that the matter of coercion takes second place.”
“You’re going to report the Timmys, too.” Onsofruct sighed.
“You’d expect me to, wouldn’t you?” asked Questioner. “Though it’s an interesting question whether they are, in fact, indigenes. I’m not sure detachable parts can be considered an indigenous race. And since there’s only one of Kaorugi, it isn’t exactly a race. It’s more of a biota. Haraldson’s edicts cover destruction of biotas, but killing the Timmys didn’t kill the biota. The hearings on the question should be interesting, no?”
“Oh, certainly, certainly.” Madame threw up her hands, as though throwing the subject to the winds. Then, looking down the hill, she remarked, “Let’s catch up to your assistants and the men.”
They went on at somewhat greater speed, Madame with a clear conscience, the two Hags somewhat troubled, and Questioner quite certain she knew what each of the others was thinking.
56—A Gathering Of Monsters
Though Ashes and his sons kept to the high road, their progress was slowed by the traffic in Newholmian leggers and tunnelers along with various of Ashes’s kindred who rolled, heaved, crawled, slunk, poured, bounced, and otherwise ambulated along in the same direction. By the time half the morning had worn away, Dyre and Bane were dizzy with the variety they had observed and half paralyzed by the monstrousness of the movers and shakers—for so Ashes called them.
“Movers and shakers, boys,” he crowed. “That’s us, the movers and the shakers.”
“When they all get there, what are they going to do?” asked Bane, keeping his voice in the even, careless register that Ashes seemed able to hear without growing angry.
“Like Hugh said, roll ‘em over.” Ashes chuckled.
Bane started to ask why, then desisted. Ashes wouldn’t know why. Yesterday it had occurred to Bane that Ashes had never known why, and probably neither had any of the first settlers. They had been discontented with life on Earth, so they’d moved to Thor. They’d been discontented with the rules on Thor, so they’d broken the rules. They’d been discontented with the punishment received for that, so they’d moved. They had been discontented without women, so they’d tried stealing some. They’d continued discontented with the results of that; they would always be discontented, and probably they would never know why. During the night just past, he had dreamed of Madame’s voice going on and on about angry men, discontented men, men who went off like bombs.
“What’re you thinkin’?” asked Dyre.
“I was thinkin’ about Madame.”
“Old horny corsets? What about the old bitch?”
“I was thinkin’, she was right about some things.”
Dyre sniggered under his breath. “You’re goin’ soft in the head.”
Bane took a deep breath. “I was just rememberin’ she said that thing about men being angry. Ashes there, he’s angry.”
“I’m angry,” snarled Dyre. “All those people saying we stink. It’s enough to make you good and angry.”
“I mean besides that. Got to be something more than that to make Ashes so ferocious.”
“Hellfire, you know,” said Dyre. “He’s mad at those people on Thor who got in his way, and he’s mad at the Timmys for what they did to him, and he’s mad at the women for dyin’ on him, and he’s mad at Marool for doin’ … whatever she did.”
“And he’s mad at you and me because we’re not girls,” concluded Bane. “And if we was girls, he’d be mad at us for something else.”
“You are getting soft,” muttered Dyre, pulling his horse back to conclude the conversation.