Flesh Read online

  “Columbia Herself took me under Her wing,” he said. He knocked on the table top three times. “I do not boast, Columbia, I merely let men know of Your goodness!

  “Yes, I was only a common seaman, despite being a graduate of the Norfolk College of Mathematics. I needed the patronage of a wealthy man to get an appointment as officer-in-training. And I got my patron. It was while I was on the merchant brigantine Petrel, bound for Miami in Florida. The Floridians had just lost a big naval battle and had to sue for peace. We were the first Deecee ship with a cargo to Florida in ten years, so we expected to make quite a haul. The Floridians would welcome our goods, even if they might not like our faces. On the way, however, we were attacked by Karelian pirates.”

  Churchill thought at first that the Karelians were Carolinians, but some of the details Whitrow gave about them changed Churchill’s mind. He got the impression that they were from overseas. If that were true, then America was not as isolated as he had thought.

  The Karelian ships rammed the brigantine, and the pirates boarded. It was during the fighting that followed that Whitrow saved a wealthy passenger from being cut in two by a Karelian broadsword. The Karelians were beaten off, though with great loss. All the officers were killed, and Whitrow took command. Instead of turning back, he sailed the ship on to Miami and sold the cargo at profit.

  From that time on, he rose rapidly.

  He was given a ship of his own. As a captain he had many chances to advance his own fortunes. Moreover, the man whose life he had saved knew what was going on in the business world of Washington and Manhattan, and he steered financial opportunities toward Whitrow.

  “I was often a guest at his house,” said Whitrow, “and there I met Angela. After I married her, I became her father’s partner. And so now you see me, owner of fifteen great merchant ships and many farms and proud father of these healthy and handsome children, may Columbia continue to make us prosper.”

  “A toast to that,” Churchill said, and he drank another wine, his tenth. He had made an effort to be temperate to keep his wits ready. But Whitrow had insisted that every time he drank, his guests drank. Sarvant had refused. Whitrow said nothing, but he no longer talked to Sarvant except when Sarvant directly spoke to him.

  The table had become very noisy by now. The children drank beer and wine, even the youngest, a boy of six. They no longer giggled but laughed loudly, especially when Whitrow told jokes that would have delighted Rabelais. The servants, standing behind the chairs, laughed until tears ran from their eyes and they had to hold their aching sides.

  These people had few visible inhibitions. They chewed noisily and did not mind talking when their mouths were full. When their father belched loudly, the children tried to outdo him.

  At first, seeing the lovely Robin eating like a hog had sickened Churchill. It made him aware of the gulf between them, a gulf that meant more than just years. After his fifth wine, he seemed to lose his revulsion. He told himself that their attitude toward food was really healthier than that of his time. Besides, table manners were not intrinsically good or bad. The custom of the land determined what was or was not acceptable.

  Sarvant did not seem to think so. As the meal progressed he became more silent and at the end he would not raise his eyes from his plate.

  Whitrow became more boisterous. When his wife passed him on her way to direct a servant in the kitchen, he gave her a hard but affectionate slap on her broad rear. He laughed and said that that reminded him of the night Robin was conceived, and then he proceeded to go into the details of that night.

  Suddenly, in the middle of the story, Sarvant stood up and walked out of the house. He left a complete silence behind him.

  Finally, Whitrow said, “Is your friend sick?”

  “In a way,” Churchill said. “He comes from a place where talking of sex is taboo.”

  Whitrow was amazed. “But... how could that be? What a curious custom!”

  “I imagine you have your own taboos,” Churchill said, “and they would be just as curious to him. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go ask him what he intends to do; but I’ll be right back.”

  “Tell him to come back. I would like to get another look at a man who thinks so crookedly.”

  Churchill found Sarvant in a very peculiar situation. He was halfway up the totem pole, clinging tightly to the head of one of the animals to keep from falling.

  Churchill looked once at the moonlit scene and leaped back into the house. “There’s a lioness outside! She’s treed Sarvant!”

  “Oh, that’d be Alice,” Whitrow said. “We let her out after dark to discourage burglars. I’ll let Robin take care of her. She and her mother can handle big cats much better than I. Robin, will you take Alice back to her den?”

  “I’d rather take her with me,” Robin said. She looked at her father. “Would you mind if Mr. Churchill took me to the concert now? He can talk to you later. I’m sure he’ll accept your invitation to be our guest for an indefinite period.”

  Something seemed to pass between father and daughter. Whitrow grinned and said, “Of course. Mr. Churchill, would you be my house guest? You are welcome to stay until you care to leave.”

  “I am honored,” Churchill said. “Does that invitation include Sarvant?”

  “If he wishes to accept. But I am not so sure he’ll be at ease with us.”

  Churchill opened the door and allowed Robin to precede him. She walked out without hesitation and took the lioness by the collar. Churchill called up, “Come on down, Sarvant. It’s not yet time to throw a Christian to the lions.”

  Reluctantly, Sarvant climbed down. “I should have stood my ground. But it took me by surprise. It was the last thing I would have expected.”

  “Nobody’s blaming you for getting out of reach,” Churchill said. “I’d have done the same thing. A mountain lion is nothing to treat with contempt.”

  “Wait a minute,” Robin said. “I have to get a leash for Alice.”

  She stroked the lioness’ head and chucked her under the chin. The big cat purred like distant thunder and then, at her mistress’ command, followed her around the side of the house.

  “All right, Sarvant,” Churchill said. “Why did you take off like the proverbial bird? Didn’t you know you could have gravely offended your hosts? Luckily, Whitrow didn’t get mad at me. You could have queered the best stroke of luck we’ve had so far.”

  Sarvant looked angry. “Surely you didn’t expect me to sit there and tolerate such bestial behavior? And his obscene descriptions of his cohabitations with his wife?”

  “I gather there’s nothing wrong with that in this time and place,” Churchill said. “These people are, well, just earthy. They enjoy a good tumble in bed, and they enjoy rehashing it in conversation.”

  “Good God, you’re not defending them?”

  “Sarvant, I don’t understand you. You encountered hundreds of customs more disgusting, actually repulsive, when we were on Vixa. Yet I never saw you flinch.”

  “That was different. The Vixans weren’t human.”

  “They were humanoid. You can’t judge these people by our standards.”

  “Do you mean to tell me you enjoyed his anecdotes about his sexual behavior?”

  “I did get kind of queasy when he was talking about conceiving Robin. But I think that was because Robin was there. Certainly she wasn’t suffering—she was laughing her beautiful head off.”

  “These people are degenerate! They need scourging!”

  “I thought you were the minister of the Prince of Peace.”

  “What?” Sarvant said. He was silent for a moment, then he spoke in a quieter voice. “You’re right. I hated when I should have been loving. But, after all, I’m only human. However, even a pagan like yourself is right to rebuke me when I talk of scourging.”

  “Whitrow invited you to come back in.”

  Sarvant shook his head. “No, I just haven’t the stomach for it. God only knows what would happen if I spent the night
there. I wouldn’t be surprised if he offered me his wife.”

  Churchill laughed and said, “I don’t think so. Whitrow’s no Eskimo. And don’t think that just because they’re loose in talk they may not have a far stricter sexual code, in some ways, than we had in our time. What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to find some sort of motel and spend the night there. What are you going to do?”

  “Just now I think Robin intends to take me out on the town. Later, I’m to spend the night here. I don’t want to throw away this opportunity. Whitrow could be the wedge to get us into a nice position in Deecee. Washington hasn’t changed in some respects; it still pays to know somebody with pull.”

  Sarvant held out his hand. His nutcracker face was serious.

  “God be with you,” he said, and walked away into the darkness of the street.

  Robin came back around the corner of the house. She was holding the leash in one hand and in the other she held a large leather bag. Evidently she’d spent time in doing more than snapping the leash on the lioness’ collar. Even though the moon furnished the only light, Churchill could see that she had changed her clothes and had put on fresh make-up. She had also exchanged her sandals for high-heeled shoes.

  “Where did your friend go?” she said.

  “Somewhere to spend the night.”

  “Good! I didn’t like him very much. And I was afraid that I would have to be rude and not invite him to come along with us.”

  “I can’t imagine you being rude—and don’t waste too much sympathy on him. I think he likes to suffer. Where are we going?”

  “I was thinking of going to the concert in the park. But that would mean sitting still too long. We could go to the amusement park. Did you have such things in your time?”

  “Yes. It might be interesting to see if they’ve changed much. But I don’t care where I go. Just as long as I’m with you.”

  “I thought you liked me,” she said, smiling.

  “What man wouldn’t? But I must admit I’m surprised that you seem to like me so much. I’m not much to look at, just a redhaired wrestler with a face like a baby’s.”

  “I like babies,” she replied, laughing. “But you needn’t act surprised. I’ll bet you’ve laid a hundred girls.”

  Churchill winced. He wasn’t as insensitive to the direct speech of Deecee as Sarvant had thought.

  He was wise enough not to boast. He said, “I can truthfully swear you’re the first woman I’ve touched in eight hundred years.”

  “Great Columbia, it’s a wonder you don’t explode all over the place!”

  She laughed merrily, but Churchill blushed. He was glad that they were not in a bright light.

  “I’ve an idea,” she said. “Why don’t we go sailing tonight? There’s a full moon, and the Potomac will be beautiful. And we can get away from this heat. There’ll be a breeze.”

  “Fine, but it’s a long walk.”

  “Virginia preserve us! You didn’t think we’d walk? Our carriage is in back, waiting.”

  She reached into the pocket of her bell-shaped skirt and pulled out a small whistle. Immediately following the shrill sound came the beat of hoofs and the crunch of gravel under wheels. Churchill assisted her aboard. The lioness leaped after them and lay down on the floor at their feet. The driver shouted, “Giddyap!” and the carriage sped down the moonlit street. Churchill wondered why she wanted to bring along the lioness, since two armed servants rode the platform on the rear of the carriage. He decided that having Alice along was being doubly fortified. She would be worth ten men in a fight.

  The three got down off the carriage. Robin ordered the servants to wait until she came back from the sail. On the way down the long steps to the ship, Churchill said, “Won’t they get bored, just waiting for us?”

  “I don’t think so. They’ve got a bottle of white lightning and dice.”

  Alice leaped aboard the yacht first and settled down in the small cabin where she probably hoped the water wouldn’t touch her. Churchill untied the craft, gave her a shove, and jumped on. Then he and Robin were busy unfurling the sails and doing everything necessary.

  They had a delightful sail. The full moon gave them all the light they needed or wanted, and the breeze was just strong enough to send them at a good clip when they headed downwind. The city was a black monster with a thousand blazing fitful eyes, the torches of the people in the streets. Churchill, seated with the rudder bar in his hand and Robin by his side, told her how Washington looked in his day.

  “It was many towers crowded together and connected in the air with many bridges and underground with many tunnels. The towers soared into the air for a mile, and they plunged into the ground a mile deep. There was no night, because the lights were so bright.”

  “And now it is all gone, melted and covered with dirt,” Robin said.

  She shivered as if she thought of all that splendor of stone and steel and the millions of people now gone had made her cold. Churchill put his arm around her and, as she did not resist, he kissed her.

  He thought that now would be the time to furl the sails and throw out the anchor. He wondered if the lioness would get upset, but decided that Robin must know how she would act under such circumstances. Perhaps he and Robin could go down into the small cabin, though he preferred to stay above decks. It was possible that she would not object if she were locked in the cabin.

  But it was not to be. When he told her bluntly why he wanted to haul down the sails, he was informed that this could not be. Not now, anyway.

  Robin spoke in a soft voice and smiled at him. She even said she was sorry.

  “You have no idea what you do to me, Rud,” she said. “I think I am in love with you. But I am not sure if it is you I love, or if it is the brother of the Sunhero I love. You are more than a man to me, you are a demigod in many ways. You were born eight hundred years ago and you have traveled to places that are so far away my head spins to think of it. To me, there is a light around you that shines even in the daytime. But I am a good girl. I cannot allow myself—though Columbia knows I want to—to do this with you. Not until I’m sure... But I know how you must feel. Why don’t you go to the Temple of Gotew tomorrow?”

  Churchill did not know what she was talking about. He was only concerned about having offended her so much she wouldn’t see him again. It wasn’t lust alone that drew him toward her. He was sure of that. He loved this beautiful girl; he would have wanted her if he had just had a dozen women.

  “Let’s go back,” she said. “I’m afraid this has killed your good spirits. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have kissed you. But I wanted to kiss you.”

  “Then you’re not mad at me?”

  “Why should I be?”

  “No reason. But I’m happy again.”

  After they’d tied the craft to the slip, and were just beginning to walk back up the steps, he stopped her.

  “Robin, how long do you think it’ll be before you’re sure?”

  “I am going to the temple tomorrow. I’ll be able to tell you when I get back.”

  “You’re going to pray for guidance? Or something like that?”

  “I’ll pray. But I’m not going primarily for that. I want to have a priestess make a test on me.”

  “And after this test, you’ll know whether or not you want to marry me?”

  “Goodness no!” she said. “I’ll have to know you much better than I do before I’d think of marrying you. No, I have to have this test made so I’ll know whether or not I should go to bed with you.”

  “What test?”

  “If you don’t know, then you’ll not be worried about it. But I’ll be sure tomorrow.”

  “Sure of what?” he said angrily.

  “Then I’ll know if it’s all right for me to quit acting like a virgin.”

  Her face became ecstatic.

  “I’ll know if I’m carrying the Sunhero’s child!”

  7

  It rained the morning that Stag
g was to lead the parade into Baltimore. Stagg and Calthorp were in a large open-walled tent and drinking hot white lightning to keep warm. Stagg was motionless as a model while submitting to the usual morning repainting of his genitals and buttocks, necessary because he wore the paint off at nights. He was silent and paying no attention to the giggles and compliments of the three girls whose only work was this daily redecorating of the Sunhero. Calthorp, who generally talked like a maniac to keep Stagg’s spirits up, was also glum.

  Finally, Stagg said, “Do you know, Doc, it’s been ten days since we left Fair Grace. Ten days and ten towns. By now you and I should have worked out a plan for escape. In fact, if we were the men we used to be, we’d have been over the hills and far away. But the only time I get to thinking is in the mornings, and I’m too exhausted and wretched to do anything constructive. And by noon I just don’t give a damn. I like the way I am!”

  “And I’ve not been much help to you, have I?” Calthorp said. “I get as drunk as you do, and I’m too sick in the morning to do anything but take a hair of the dog that bit me.”

  “What the hell’s happened?” Stagg said. “Do you realize that I don’t even know where I’m going, or what’s going to happen to me when I get there? I don’t even know, really, what a Sunhero is!”

  “It’s mostly my fault,” Calthorp said. He sighed and sipped some more of his drink. “I just can’t seem to get organized.”

  Stagg looked at one of his guards, who was standing in the entrance of a nearby tent. “Do you suppose that if I threatened to wring his neck, he’d tell me everything I want to know?”

  “You could try it.”

  Stagg rose from his chair. “Hand me that cloak, will you? I don’t think they’ll object if I wear this while it’s raining.”

  He was referring to an incident of the previous day when he had put on a kilt before going over to talk to the girl in the cage. The attendants had looked shocked, then summoned the guards. These surrounded Stagg. Before he could find out what they intended, a man behind him had torn off his kilt and run off with it into the woods.