oceans
will cause enough social disruption in itself. So the very existence of an untapped ocean resource will
work for me; it's only necessary to make the people demand the technology which will open up the
ocean to exploring and mining."
She moved slowly back toward the camp. A whiff of sweet-smelling familiar smoke from the campfire
came to her, with a smell of cooking food. She saw Menella moving around the fire with her companion,
her own assistants watching the girls; but oddly without desire, she realized. The Free Amazons puzzled
her a little. They seemed to have the trick of coexisting with men without arousing either desire or
resentment, as if at will they could become men…
— Dangerous ground. Don't think along those lines !
The effort to turn off a recurrent, dangerous train of thought blanked her face almost to automatism. She reached up, not thinking, and brought down a handful of leaves and buds which, in the springtime rains,
were expanding into down-filled pods. Her hands moving slowly, by old habit, she stripped the pods to
their soft fibers and her long fingers twisted, gently, relentlessly, them into a soft thread.
Still spinning the soft fiber between her hands she walked into the camp; suddenly, realizing what she
was doing, she crumpled the thread and threw it away, and walked to the fire.
She asked, deliberately jolly, "Whatever's cooking smells good. When do we eat?"
Chapter 6
Contents - Prev/Next
THEY HAD issued a hospital uniform—the white synthetic smock with the red and blue caduceus of
Terran Medic and two small stars on the sleeve, indicating service on two planets—to David Hamilton,
and he was surprised at how much better it made him feel. Among other things, it meant that he melted
into nearly complete anonymity anywhere on the spaceport or in the HQ or hospital buildings; just
another Medic on the staff. It also gave him unquestioned access to any testing equipment he might
want, without the need to route his requisition through Jason Allison.
He hadn't yet been outside the hospital building, even though Regis Hastur had offered, most cordially,
to show them the city and he knew that Missy and Conner and Rondo had all taken advantage of the
invitation.
Because of this, he had not seen any of his fellow members of the project that day, and had spent the day going over the data from the physical examinations, with the final startling revelation that Missy was a
chieri. Was she too a functional hermaphrodite? He realized that without being aware of it he had from
the beginning thought of Missy as "she," although his early confusion about Keral's gender had been only partially resolved. Now, at a table apart in the cafeteria, he still held the comparison charts up
beside one another. Missy displayed all the marks of the chieri, the anomalies of inner structure and the unmistakable brain wave development. Genitally, although major structures of both sexes appeared to be
present in rudimentary form (as they are, of course, in embryonic humans) the male structures appeared
in a state of near-atrophy. So there must be at least minimal gender differences among the chieri. Missy
lied to every question we asked her; why? If she's not accustomed to being among telepaths, does she
even know we knew she was lying? Maybe when she trusts us more, she'll "come clean." She looks
younger than twenty-four; I'd have guessed her about fourteen. Teeth—well, she has twenty-two, which
may or may not mean anything, and four still unerupted, compared with twenty-four for Keral. Does this
mean she is younger?
Keral's chart. Similar structural features. I wish I knew his own language! I gather even Regis can't talk to him freely because of the language barrier. That would be a really meaningful use for telepathy!
He shut off the feeling of warmth he got from thinking about Keral ever since that instant of rapport, and returned to scientific objectivity. Externally Keral
will cause enough social disruption in itself. So the very existence of an untapped ocean resource will
work for me; it's only necessary to make the people demand the technology which will open up the
ocean to exploring and mining."
She moved slowly back toward the camp. A whiff of sweet-smelling familiar smoke from the campfire
came to her, with a smell of cooking food. She saw Menella moving around the fire with her companion,
her own assistants watching the girls; but oddly without desire, she realized. The Free Amazons puzzled
her a little. They seemed to have the trick of coexisting with men without arousing either desire or
resentment, as if at will they could become men…
— Dangerous ground. Don't think along those lines !
The effort to turn off a recurrent, dangerous train of thought blanked her face almost to automatism. She reached up, not thinking, and brought down a handful of leaves and buds which, in the springtime rains,
were expanding into down-filled pods. Her hands moving slowly, by old habit, she stripped the pods to
their soft fibers and her long fingers twisted, gently, relentlessly, them into a soft thread.
Still spinning the soft fiber between her hands she walked into the camp; suddenly, realizing what she
was doing, she crumpled the thread and threw it away, and walked to the fire.
She asked, deliberately jolly, "Whatever's cooking smells good. When do we eat?"
Chapter 6
Contents - Prev/Next
THEY HAD issued a hospital uniform—the white synthetic smock with the red and blue caduceus of
Terran Medic and two small stars on the sleeve, indicating service on two planets—to David Hamilton,
and he was surprised at how much better it made him feel. Among other things, it meant that he melted
into nearly complete anonymity anywhere on the spaceport or in the HQ or hospital buildings; just
another Medic on the staff. It also gave him unquestioned access to any testing equipment he might
want, without the need to route his requisition through Jason Allison.
He hadn't yet been outside the hospital building, even though Regis Hastur had offered, most cordially,
to show them the city and he knew that Missy and Conner and Rondo had all taken advantage of the
invitation.
Because of this, he had not seen any of his fellow members of the project that day, and had spent the day going over the data from the physical examinations, with the final startling revelation that Missy was a
chieri. Was she too a functional hermaphrodite? He realized that without being aware of it he had from
the beginning thought of Missy as "she," although his early confusion about Keral's gender had been only partially resolved. Now, at a table apart in the cafeteria, he still held the comparison charts up
beside one another. Missy displayed all the marks of the chieri, the anomalies of inner structure and the unmistakable brain wave development. Genitally, although major structures of both sexes appeared to be
present in rudimentary form (as they are, of course, in embryonic humans) the male structures appeared
in a state of near-atrophy. So there must be at least minimal gender differences among the chieri. Missy
lied to every question we asked her; why? If she's not accustomed to being among telepaths, does she
even know we knew she was lying? Maybe when she trusts us more, she'll "come clean." She looks
younger than twenty-four; I'd have guessed her about fourteen. Teeth—well, she has twenty-two, which
may or may not mean anything, and four still unerupted, compared with twenty-four for Keral. Does this
mean she is younger?
Keral's chart. Similar structural features. I wish I knew his own language! I gather even Regis can't talk to him freely because of the language barrier. That would be a really meaningful use for telepathy!
He shut off the feeling of warmth he got from thinking about Keral ever since that instant of rapport, and returned to scientific objectivity. Externally Keral
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