“No secrets!” he cried. He lurched at her, putting his hands around her throat. “Get away from me!"
Aspect did not resist, but his hands lacked force. Yet she saw his straining. He really was trying to choke her. The ikon was protecting her, especially about the head. The dragon seed, evidently knowing that, had not buzzed. But those were secrets she couldn't share.
“You don't want to hurt me,” she said, drawing his hands gently away. “I don't want to be here any more than you do. I promised your mother."
“I don't want to hurt you,” he said, believing it. How else could he account for the seeming powerlessness of his hands? “But I don't want to talk to you."
“I will tell you a secret. Then you may tell me yours—if you choose."
“Negation!"
“I can read minds."
He stared at her. “You're no Translucent!"
“I got a mental disease that made me read minds. At first it was awful—so many thoughts coming at me at once. Then I learned to shield my mind, so I don't hear the thoughts unless I want to. I did not want to deceive you about this."
“Disbelief.” But it was hope rather than certainty.
“Perhaps I can demonstrate. As we talk, my friends are visiting the closed workshop."
He was eager to focus on the new subject. “Where my ancestor made the magic loom."
He had let slip more than his mother had. “Yes. We need to know its origin. My mind is linked to that of my friend On. I should be able to learn from her what they are discovering."
“No one has entered that shop in generations."
“Agreement. Certainly I have not; I have been here with you.” Aspect focused on her friend, whom she could reach at some moderate distance because they were friends and knew each other's minds. “They have entered the shop, and are gazing at the signs of the work of two centuries before, undisturbed. They see where the loom stood as it was crafted."
“You could guess that."
“Now No takes the ikon from her mouth. She restores it—and it fits that spot exactly. And—” She broke off, hearing the warning buzz of the dragon seed.
But it was too late. “You have the loom!” Bashful exclaimed.
“Affirmation. But we don't want it known. Our mission is special, and there may be danger."
“You would have trouble getting out of the village, if they knew. The loom is a legend; no one knows where it went when it disappeared. We keep the shop eternally ready for its return. But you aren't going to return it."
“We aren't.” She looked at him. “I ask you not to reveal that we have it."
He hesitated. “Deal: will you return it when you are done with it?"
Aspect shot a thought to Ennui. Ennui considered a moment, then made the compromise, which was reasonable in the circumstance. Both of them knew that Havoc would go along with it, since he had delegated his authority to them in this matter. In fact she could contact him mentally for confirmation; they tended to forget that new long-range ability. “Yes."
“Make an oath."
“Made."
Bashful had gained confidence. “Then I will be silent, in the hope that I have achieved what we desire."
“Appreciation. But we do not know how long we will be using the loom."
“But you are honest folk."
“We honor oaths, at any rate.” She smiled. “We serve Havoc, our barbarian king."
“And I believe that you can read minds.” He pondered briefly. “You—know my secret?"
“I want you to tell me your secret."
“Negation! This is not part of our prior agreement."
“Acquiescence. Deal: tell me, and I will help you in any way I can."
“How can you help me?"
“I promise to find a way to make it right with your mother, if I can."
“You know my secret anyway?"
“I have told you mine, so you know that I know. But I want it to be fair between us. Tell me, so we are even. Then we can discuss how to proceed."
“You are not revolted?"
She laughed. “I am twice your age. I have seen many things. This is not unusual.” And now she realized why the dragon seed had put her in this place: because she did know something about this situation.
He hesitated, not really believing. Then he shrugged. “I want sex with men, not women."
“Now we are even,” she said. “I worked in Triumph City. There are many people there. Maybe one in twenty is like you in this respect. Their problem is that they are still required to marry and have four children."
“Yes!"
“But there is a way around it. Sometimes they marry women of similar persuasion."
He was amazed. “There are women like me?"
“Yes. They want sex with other women."
“Then how can they have children?"
“They want sex with women, but they can have it with men. They can pretend, or simply endure it. If they do, they get children. It is desire, not ability, that is changed."
“But I—can't do that."
“Perhaps. But here is your solution: marry one of these women, and adopt. You don't have to have sex with her; no one else need know."
Hope was dawning. “If I could find such a woman, and she kept my secret—"
“She would. It's her secret too."
“But there would be suspicion, if we had no natural child."
Aspect nodded. “You might have to do it once, or enough to have that one. You would both hate it, but it would allay suspicion, and you might like the child."
“But how could I find such a woman?"
“Perhaps I could find her for you."
“Because you can read minds!"
“Agreement. It might take a while, as I would have to meet a number of the local girls, but I believe it can be done. This is how I can help you."
His embarrassment and anger dissipated completely. “Oh, Lady! If you would!"
“This is our deal with your mother: to fix things with you. Does she know?"
“I hope not. She—"
“Would not understand. We'll keep that secret."
“Oh, Lady!” he repeated. “Mortification! I attacked you! Yet you bring me salvation."
She smiled. “Remember, you didn't really try to hurt me.” That was not quite true, but it was important that he believe it. “I do it because we made a deal. But had I known before, I would have helped you anyway. You are a decent ordinary young man, apart from one difference."
“Affirmation,” he agreed wryly.
Aspect stiffened. She felt a sudden overwhelming urge to do something. “Oh!"
“Lady! Are you well?"
She recovered awareness of him. “I—believe so. I feel a great compulsion to fashion the loom. The girl No has the loom ikon in her mouth, and is standing in the loom site, and my friend On is receiving her feeling, and I through her. It can not be resisted."
“That's how my ancestor Penter made the loom! He received instructions from the spirit of the world."
Aspect smiled. “Perhaps. We understand he was an experienced loom craftsman, but that would not account for its magic nature."
“He was the best loomer of his age,” Bashful said proudly. “It took him years. He sought special woods and twines, and magic imbued it, and when he was done he was rewarded with this excellent farmstead, and we keep the faith. But the loom vanished. It's all part of our family and village lore."
“And that power remains there to this day,” Aspect said. “That spot must be an access to a channel of strong magic."
“It must be,” he agreed. “We didn't know, because we never go in the shop."
“Just as well, I think. Perhaps that is part of the deal: no one must go to make another loom.” She nodded, glad to have the matter understood, if not resolved. “Are we done here?"
“Agreement.” But then he thought of something else. “Suppose a woman asks me for a fourth?"
That set her ba
ck. “I had not thought of that. If you declined, she might wonder why."
“Affirmation."
“And there is the problem of how you can ever be with another man for such purpose, without more suspicion."
“Negation. I know a man. That is how I know my nature. We are circumspect."
“Still, it would be better if you could service a woman, when you had to."
“And I couldn't.” But the dragon seed buzzed. He was telling an untruth, though he believed it.
She come to a decision. “Bashful, I think I must teach you sex after all. Not for joy, but for safety. I believe you can learn to do it, if you understand the necessity."
“I don't know. When I played with a girl, and she decided to have sex, I couldn't—do it. That's when the laughter started. Now all the girls know that I was so bashful I was unable."
“Then they must be disabused. If you perform well with one, word will get around. Then you won't have to do it again, or at least not often."
“How can I do what I can't do?"
She considered. “This is not my area of expertise. I may be wrong. But I think you could do it if you pretended."
“Pretended?"
“Do you know the play of the boy and the teacher?” That was academic; everyone knew the plays, because they were put on by educational tours that made sure to cover every village. In this one, a young man asked his favorite female teacher to teach him sex, and she did. In the play, she looked old and sour at first, but became luscious when she threw off her clothing. It was understood that it was just the way he saw her, but the actresses were always indeed luscious. The Lady Gale had once played the role, enhanced by the succubus; that must have truly wowed the villagers!
“Affirmation. But she couldn't teach me like that."
“Think of me as that teacher. I am her age, and you are his age. I hope to teach you how to fool a young woman."
He smiled ruefully. “If only I could!"
“You must compliment her on her body, her face, her intellect—anything, and it doesn't have to be true. She may know it's not true, but she'll like hearing it anyway. Try it on me."
“Lady, that's not hard. You don't look my mother's age. You're beautiful! If I were normal I would be desperately eager for your sexual favor. But—"
“No buts. Remember, this is a play. You must speak the lines."
“And you promise me a way out of my predicament. That makes you the nicest, smartest woman I've met."
“Very good. You have flattered me and made me interested in your wish, which I naturally assume is to have sex with me. Now strip."
“But—"
“Accept my guidance. I have a purpose."
Reluctantly he removed his clothing. He was well constructed, but evinced no sexual reaction.
“Now comes the difficult part. Gaze on me as I strip.” She removed her clothing, until she stood naked before him. She knew herself to be formidably feminine, thanks to the ikon. Still he had no reaction. He did not merely think he was disinterested in women; it was the case.
“Close your eyes."
He did, standing there awkwardly.
“Pretend I am a man.” Was she really doing this? She had barely gotten used to the idea of being an attractive woman again, and never dreamed of being a man.
“I can't!"
She labored to make her voice husky. “Try. Remember, this is a play. I am a handsome man approaching you for sex.” She stepped toward him and touched his penis.
He jumped away. “Negation!"
“Try again,” she said patiently.
This time when she touched his penis he stood still. She send a mental signal of maleness, not sure how he would receive it.
His member stirred in her hand. He was succeeding in thinking of her as male. But it was only a stir, not a stiffening.
Would the ikon have effect in a case like this? She brought her head down, angling it to bring the ikon close. And the member swelled, becoming rigid.
“Suddenly it lives!” he said in wonder.
“Your imagination is focusing,” she said, though she knew it wasn't merely that. “Hold the thought.” Because she couldn't keep the ikon constantly close. With Ennui and herself there had been considerable residual effect; she hoped that would be the case here.
“I am holding it,” he said, his member throbbing.
“Now I am going to assume a position. Find me, eyes closed, and see what you can do.” She got down on her hands and knees.
He stepped forward, almost tripped over her, and found her back with fumbling hands. She sent another male signal. He got down behind her, his member erect.
But then he balked. “I can't do it!"
She turned around, and saw that he had opened his eyes. “Maybe with practice. In this position there is not a great difference between a woman and a man. Work on believing it is always a man. Then when you must be with a woman, do it that way."
“But I don't believe!"
“Yet you still have an erection."
He looked down. “I do,” he agreed, surprised.
“That is all you need.” She thought of another aspect. “If you marry, your wife will understand. She will want you to have this ability too. Practice with her. When you succeed in doing it with her, not only may you get a baby with her, you should be able to do it elsewhere."
“Yes,” he breathed, seeing it. “I couldn't do it this time, but I did get part way. If I practiced over and over, I could get there."
She did not confess that she was relieved. She had been ready for the sex, but the notion that she was emulating a man turned her off. So in this case she was like a woman of that persuasion. That helped her appreciate the magnitude of the challenge.
“Now we just need to find you a suitable woman. I need to meet a number, so I can read their minds. Keep my secret about that."
“Yes! There is a dance tonight. I dreaded attending it."
“You dance?"
“Yes, well enough. But I asked no girl to this one, because—"
“I will go with you. We shall pretend I am younger than I am."
He smiled. “Readily done."
“We'll dance together, and I will make sure you know how to hold a woman close. Remember, holding is not sex; it is part of the necessary show. A woman can be pleasant to hold for dancing; you don't need even to pretend there is anything more. Then I will walk around while you dance with others. By the time the evening is done, I should know."
“Oh Lady, I think you have shown me the way. I love you."
“Then kiss me."
He paused, for the moment appalled. “I didn't mean it that way."
“Understood. There are different kinds of love. Two things. If you are to fool a woman, you must at least kiss her. You don't need an erection for that. And you really can love a woman, as perhaps you will your wife. You don't have to have sex with her.” She stepped into him, still naked. “Now kiss me."
At first he fumbled, but then something came over him, and he held her close and kissed her. “Thank you, Lady."
“Practice that too, with your wife. Do it in public, so others know your romance is real."
“I will!"
“For it may indeed be real. Just not sexual.” She was hammering on that point, to enable him to disassociate love from sex, appearance from reality. “Remember that: you can have friendship with a woman."
“You have shown me that."
Then they dressed and went out. “The problem is he hasn't found the right woman,” Aspect told his mother.
Gala's jaw dropped. “That's all?"
“That's enough. Let him choose his own, whoever she may be, and accept her, and all will be well."
“I don't believe this."
Bashful smiled. “Believe it, Mother. This woman has made me a man."
Gala did not look entirely pleased, yet she had to accept what was offered: a normal, marriageable son. Did it matter that it had taken a woman of her
own age to accomplish it? Naturally she assumed they had had sex, and Bashful was encouraging that notion.
Ennui and Nonce appeared. Aspect compared thoughts with Ennui, more thoroughly at closer range. They had gotten what they could, but it was complicated to impart at the moment, and Aspect had her own input. So she addressed her own project. We must locate a secret lesbian girl, she thought. Ennui nodded, understanding. She took Nonce aside, so as to explain verbally to her.
They attended the dance. Aspect danced with Bashful, and he was competent. She required him to hold her very close, as though they had indeed been lovers, and saw the jealous glances of other young men. Oh, it was nice to seem young and sexy again!
Then Nonce cut in on her, making a stir, because Nonce was truly young and lovely. She too danced him extremely close, and brushed his cheek with her lips. The local girls followed, suddenly finding Bashful interesting, and the boys found Nonce more than interesting.
Aspect and Ennui walked along the sidelines, searching minds. Of course Nonce was popular, for she was a lively girl and knew every dance. But so was Bashful, who belied his name now that he had reason to hope. He was getting into it, enjoying the act, holding girls close. It was the appearance that thrilled him rather than their bodies, but they didn't know that.
Ennui approached. I found two. One is pretty, the other not.
But it would depend on other qualities. Aspect walked close to each girl in turn, and learned that the unpretty one was smart and determined, an excellent worker, though she hated the options available to her. Her name was Pear, the unkind description foisted on her. The pretty one was neither smart nor skilled, but was prepared to tolerate the attentions of a man for the sake of social approval. She would get by.
When the unpretty girl stepped outside the dance hall, as she was not kept busy by boys, Aspect trailed her out. “Dialogue,” she murmured.
The girl looked at her. “You danced with Bashful and made him confident. Are you his cousin?"
“His friend. He has a secret."
“Don't we all!"
“Which you share."
The girl looked sharply at her. “Who are you?"
“I am called Speck. I have a secret too."
“Curiosity."
“I can read minds. An illness left me this way. Keep my secret and I will keep yours."