“That depends on your view.” He paused again.
Something was up, but the dragon seed did not buzz. The man was not lying, merely being unusually cautious. His mind was opaque to telepathy, as the gray woman's had been, so she was dependent on the guidance of the seeds.
“My view is much as that of any other mature woman.” Seeing his brow wrinkle, she explained: “I am forty one years old, and past my four children. Magic has improved me somewhat."
“Understatement!"
“Appreciation. Similar is true for my companions. We have become more attractive than we were, but we remain normal in other respects. We should react to issues as other women would, but perhaps with greater tolerance than some, for our experience has educated us.” It wasn't necessary to clarify that that experience had been at the king's court, where acquaintance with and tolerance for many divergent types and attitudes was necessary.
The gray elder nodded. “The women are lesbians."
So that was it. By sheer coincidence, Aspect had recent experience handling such a case. “There are those who do prefer their own gender. If this does not interfere with their households, it should not be occasion for concern among others."
“They have had their families, and are considered to be good mothers. Now that their four are done, they wish to leave their husbands and live together as a couple. The village is divided whether to allow this. If it is not allowed, they will be sent into exile. They say they would prefer to die."
Aspect had managed to deal with the young nonChroma man's situation by arranging his marriage to a lesbian woman, masking their natures. But this was open. “And you wish us to try to persuade the villagers to accept them."
“I wish you to make their case, so that no unfairness may be attributed to the village for ejecting them."
So he was one of the naysayers. This was a job likely doomed to failure. But it was the price of their guidance to Death Valley. “We will make their case,” Aspect said, and Ennui and Nonce nodded.
“This way.” He led them to an empty gray house that turned out to be fully functional and provisioned. They would have no trouble staying here for the duration of their business here.
“The lesbians are in the adjacent house,” Reaper said. “The hearing will be held tomorrow at noon. Parting."
“Parting,” Aspect said somewhat faintly to the man's back. They had barely a day and night to prepare their case. It occurred to her that a day and night of wild sex with all the village men would probably have been easier than what they faced.
“But they will guide us to Death Valley, win or lose this case,” Nonce said.
“Nevertheless, I want to win this case,” Ennui said grimly. “I know discrimination when I see it."
“You two get settled,” Aspect said. “I will make contact with our clients, and set up a dialogue for this afternoon. We shall need to marshal our thoughts."
She went next door and knocked. There was no answer, but she knew people were there. “I am your representative,” she called.
The door opened, reluctantly. A gray woman of middle age was there. “Greeting,” she said unenthusiastically.
“Explanation: I am one of three nonChroma travelers who need to see Death Valley. We are informed that we must make your case to the village tomorrow at noon, in return for a guide. We have sympathy for your situation, and want to do our best. But we have little notion how. Perhaps if we can talk with you for a while, we can work something out. We mean well, and are competent in our fashions. Perhaps we can help."
“Enter,” the woman said, seeming relieved.
“I do not mean to visit, just to exchange introductions and agree to meet later today,” Aspect said, entering the house.
In the main room stood another gray woman, much like the first. To Aspect, one middle aged Gray Chroma woman looked much like another.
“Introduction,” the first woman said. “I am Mender, and my companion is Sympathy."
“I am Speck, and my companions are—"
“The Lady Aspect!” Sympathy said. “King Deal's queen. I saw you on a tour a decade ago, and you look even better now."
This was awkward. “Favor. You have recognized me, but I am traveling anonymously. I ask that you keep my secret."
“Agreed,” Sympathy said.
“We are good at keeping secrets,” Mender said. “We kept ours for twenty years.” She glanced at Sympathy. “This woman is really the queen?"
“Not any more,” Aspect said. “My husband died, and now Havoc the Barbarian is king, and his wife is queen. I am on a mission for them. We fear it would be compromised if known."
“We understand compromise,” Sympathy said. “Surely you can make our case well, if anyone can."
“I will do my best. But I need to know you better. Can my associates and I converse with you this evening? We have little time."
“We will come to your house at dusk,” Mender said. “Apology for mistrusting you at the door. We have been shunned or condemned by some."
“Needless. Understanding.” Aspect stepped back, in a half unconscious mannerism signifying the letting go of something unwanted—and her dragon seed buzzed.
Alarmed, she turned. The floor she had been about to step on consisted of gray boards like the rest, but these seemed less solid. In fact, she recognized the contours of a removable panel, perhaps covering access to a cellar. It was not quite tight; her foot might have dislodged it and sent her tumbling.
She turned back to the two women, and caught mutual expressions of alarm. “Problem?” she asked.
“None,” Mender said quickly. “Here is the door."
But the seed buzzed. The woman was lying or at least concealing something.
“There must be candor between us, if we are to help,” Aspect said. “I have no intention of exposing any secret of yours, just as you are keeping mine. Is there something I should know?"
Sympathy sighed. “Confirmation.” She indicated the stove, where a pot was boiling. “We are making poison."
“Horror!"
“Not for you or anyone else,” Mender said quickly. “For us. It is a herb that puts a person to sleep so deeply that soon death follows, painlessly."
“You expect to be banished,” Aspect said.
Both nodded. “Exiled,” Sympathy said. “We can't face that. All our lives have been here. So we mean to remain, the only way we can."
“But we do not want our bodies to be despoiled or removed,” Mender said. “So we have made another brew, a lot of it, that will dissolve our bodies and enable them to sink into the ground where they can never be recovered. That brew is in the cellar."
“Which I might have fallen into, had not some fluke stayed me,” Aspect said. She was really getting to appreciate the dragon seed!
“We did not mean to burden you with this information,” Sympathy said.
“It is better that I know. It impresses on me the importance of my assignment. I shall try to save you from the necessity, but will not interfere if that is your only choice."
“Appreciation,” Mender said. “The villagers would prevent it, if they knew."
Aspect stepped to the door. “Parting, until dusk."
“Parting,” the two women echoed.
Back at the other house, she found Ennui and Nonce comfortable. “This gray food is excellent,” Nonce said.
“As is their lavatory,” Ennui said. She was in a gray bathrobe, having just washed.
“I have met our clients,” Aspect said as she disrobed and went to the lavatory herself. “They are nice women in a cruel dilemma. They mean to die if they are exiled. We must prevail."
“How can we persuade reluctant villagers to be tolerant?” Nonce asked. “Triumph City has many visitors and many variants, and leads to tolerance, but isolated villages tend to be bigoted."
“I don't know how, only that we must,” Aspect said. She discovered a shower chamber that magically pumped warm water. That was a luxury almost u
nknown in nonChroma, but common in Chroma zones. Her voice resonated in this confined space.
“Sing,” Ennui suggested. “I did. I was surprised how good I sounded."
Aspect had sung in youth. She had been fair, not great. “Black, black, black is the color of my true love's hair,” she sang, and indeed it sounded good. “Her lips are something rosy fair."
“You need to be a man to sing that,” Ennui said.
“Or—” Nonce started, but broke off, embarrassed.
“Or a woman who loves a woman,” Aspect finished. “Suddenly I have a weird notion."
“We shouldn't tease them about being lesbian,” Ennui cautioned her.
“That's not precisely it. But before I finish my thought, let's find out whether we really can sing. The ikons may have enhanced us in this manner too."
They tried it. Soon they were singing in three part chorus, and it seemed quite melodious. The ikons had enhanced their voices, and now they were near minstrel level.
“I believe we can do it,” Aspect said. “Song—music—has evocative qualities. It can move the heart and spirit. That's why young men sing to young women."
“I know,” Nonce said dreamily. “Two years ago, when I was fourteen, a boy sang to me. Of course he just wanted to Poke & Tell, and I knew it, but he succeeded."
“Full sex?” Ennui asked. “At fourteen?"
“I had breasts,” Nonce said defensively. “And he had such a voice. It would have been a shame to let his effort be wasted."
“This time I want to move some villagers,” Aspect said. “I know Havoc and Gale could do it, both being minstrels; they could make the rafters weep. If we can do it too, we can save those poor women. It's a wild idea, but I think it's possible."
“Not much else is,” I suspect,” Ennui said.
They selected songs and practiced harmonies. There was little doubt about it: they were better singers than they had ever been before, and their voices related nicely. Nonce was soprano, Ennui alto, and Aspect could manage countertenor. The ikons might be responsible for the interaction too, relating magically to each other.
At dusk the two lesbian women came. After introductions, they all sat and talked. “How were you named?” Aspect asked them. That was always the signal for an interesting little story that also clarified a person's nature.
“I was from a needy home,” Mender said. “Instead of new, we patched the old. As third daughter, I was last in line, and all my clothing was well worn before I got it. So I learned to patch it well, sometimes so that no sign of repair was evident. Realizing this, other children came to me with their repairs, and I become Mender."
“From the start, I was sympathetic to others,” Sympathy said. “I was always interested in their stories. I don't know when I was named; it just seemed to be my identity. We met when I had a tear in my skirt and she had a scratch on her leg. She fixed my tear and I commiserated about her scratch."
“We were friends from then on,” Mender agreed. “But we didn't know our natures."
“Confusion,” Aspect said.
“Then came the dread eighteenth birthday,” Mender said, proceeding to what she knew the visitors wanted to know. “Neither of us were really pretty, so we lacked choices in men. But after the pretty girls were taken, there was less choice, and our turn came. We were lucky; our men were decent. We knew our duty to the village and humanity, and they knew how to get us with child. We did love our children, and all other children; they congregated at our houses."
“And when the time for our fourths came, our men simply exchanged partners and did it,” Sympathy said. “They said it was intriguing, and perhaps it was. We did not find it any more interesting than it had been with our husbands. It was effective, and we each had our fourths, and we loved them too, as they tied our families together. Then one day when she was mending for my family, I remarked on how little I felt the need for sex; were it not for my husband's desire, I would be satisfied to live without it. Mender agreed; it was no better for her. We know that it was not because of the men, because we had clasped each other's men and found them no better. Most women find the seeding of their fourths to be exciting or revolting; we found neither. We knew that other women had some genuine interest, at least when that man was handsome or especially attentive. So the lack seemed to be in us."
“Then, somehow, it happened,” Mender said. “The children were all out elsewhere, and so were the men; we were alone in the house, her house. I was holding a mended blouse up to her chest to verify the fit, and she put her arms around me to maintain her balance, and then we came together and kissed."
“And it was magic,” Sympathy said. “We got a thrill we had never had from the men. We kissed and kissed, and it just got better. Then we stripped away our clothing and lay on the bed and fondled each other's breasts. I had never done that before; I had only been fondled by a man, and while I was glad to give him what pleasure I could, there was little in it for me. I had learned to be stimulating to him so that he would grow more quickly urgent, and do it, and sleep, letting me be. Now I discovered what he felt: the touch of a woman's breasts can be marvelously exciting. And her bottom. And her kisses. And when she kissed my breasts, I became eager for more. It was all so novel and exhilarating and wonderful."
“So we made love,” Mender said. “We adapted the techniques we had used on our men, and that they had used on us, and now they worked phenomenally well. We knew that this was what true sex could be, and true love."
“And kept it secret from all others,” Sympathy said. “No one thought it remarkable that we were together so much, for we had always been close friends, and cared for each other's children. But when we were alone, it wasn't talking or mending we did, but sex. We had discovered its meaning at last."
“Once our children were grown,” Mender said, “we realized that if we were ever going to know complete happiness, this was the time. We told our husbands."
“That was our first mistake,” Sympathy said. “We thought they would understand. They did not."
“They told others,” Mender said. “And others condemned us. Our marriages were over in all but name. There was nothing to do but be open about it, and move in together. That freed our husbands to take other wives, which actually helped the village, because there are more women here than men. So our husbands became reconciled."
“In fact, having younger wives, they became enthusiastic,” Sympathy said. “It seems that passively cooperating women had left them somewhat unsatisfied. Once they discovered how active women could be, they were ready to make up for lost time. So it seemed to be a good solution for everyone."
“Except to a good many other villagers,” Mender said. “They felt there was something obscene about it, and petitioned to have us forced to return to clasping men or to be exiled. So the elders arranged a hearing, but there was a problem."
“No one wanted to plead your case,” Aspect said.
“Accuracy."
“So it was in limbo for some time,” Sympathy said. “Until now."
“Suspicion,” Aspect said. “It might have been better for you had we not come."
“Negation,” Mender said. “It has to be settled. We can not endure indefinitely in limbo."
“One way or the other,” Sympathy agreed.
They talked further, and got to know each other reasonably well. There would be others to interview in the morning. If they were able to put it together well enough, they had a case they had a chance to win.
The two women returned to their house, and the three travelers settled down to sleep. Aspect had no certainty that they could prevail, but they did have a chance. It depended on how well her idea for the songs worked out.
In the morning they practiced their singing, making sure they had not lost their voices. They worked out a medley of adaptable songs. This would be an unusual hearing.
Then they went out to interview the two husbands and some of the supportive friends. The village was closely divid
ed; no one could be sure the way the vote would go.
By noon they had a pretty good idea of who favored the women and who wanted to be rid of them. The children generally favored the women, who for twenty years had been highly supportive of all children, not just their own. But children would not vote; that was a privilege of adult status. Many of the younger adults who had recently been children felt the same; their votes would count. The two ex-husbands had changed their minds. “If I had known it would come to this, I would have kept my mouth shut,” one said candidly. “Sympathy was always a good woman, always there for me, and great with the children. The village needs her."
But there was a hard core of older women and their husbands who absolutely rejected the notion of women loving women. A number of their supporters might change if the prime movers did, but would not be weaned away from them. There were as many of them as there were young adults, making the issue too close to call. Those were the ones to be addressed.
The hearing started on time, as Vivid was at zenith. Mender and Sympathy took seats in the center of the village square, the cynosure. They looked awkward and afraid. It was obvious that they would not be able to speak effectively in their defense. They never tried; they just sat there, eyes downcast. Aspect would have felt sorry for them even if she hadn't had the job of defending them.
Two children came to the women, a boy and a girl. Aspect knew these were the youngest of those they had raised, now ten years old: the fourths. They understood what it was like to be set apart, even if there was no official discrimination. Each of them hugged each of the women, tears flowing. They did not want their mothers to be lost.
Aspect glanced with assumed casualness at the villagers, and saw the effect. These two had been good mothers, and the whole village knew it. Sexual preference was one thing, parenting another.
A severe-faced older woman stood first, a female elder, addressing the assembled villagers in the circle around the stage. There was no introduction; all that mattered was the statements. “The question is whether we wish to have among us women openly practicing perversion,” she said. “After the presentations, there will be a division of the village by all adults, and a clear majority will carry the issue.” She looked around. “First the case for exile."