Slow Train to Arcturus Read online

  And looking ahead as they rounded the curve it appeared that it wasn't only the pruners whose judgment had been poor. Theirs hadn't been too good either, Howard had to admit to himself. There were at least thirty people waiting for them, and, looking back, several more on the little two-wheeled things behind them, led by the naked painted Jezebel, grinning triumphantly.

  The people with her-and in front of them-were just as naked and just as painted, or even more painted. Some of them definitely wouldn't have been even Brother Galsson's idea of Jezebel. It began to dawn on Howard that they probably just didn't wear clothes here.

  "Surrender your arms." said an odd booming voice. "Allow yourselves to be peacefully arrested and you can expect lenient treatment. Any resistance and you will be exterminated."

  Kretz looked puzzled. "They want us to take our arms off? Do human limbs detach?"

  Despite being in obvious trouble, Howard had to smile. "No. They mean weapons. Do you have any?"

  "No," said Kretz. "I lost my laser pistol when the stripe-faces attacked us."

  "And I threw that odd stick away." Howard took a deep breath and shouted back, "We don't have any weapons. We're men of peace. Please let us pass. We intend no trespass and no harm. We are just passing through." Then his upbringing got the better of him. "Why do you not put some clothes on and cover your nakedness?" The guilty fantasies that every man had had of naked women had not prepared him for the fact that sometimes clothes could be doing you a favor.

  There was a long pause. "Advance one at a time," said the booming voice. "The bigger one first."

  Howard looked at the women, and felt that perhaps the terrors of space had not been that bad. But there seemed no help for it, so he advanced, trying not to look at them. "Peace be with you, sisters," he said, holding out his empty hands.

  The Jezebel who had met them at the airlock came running up, and grabbed his arm, twisting it up behind his back. "You're under arrest, scumbag emseepee."

  Howard blinked at the woman next to his left shoulder. "Why?" he asked. "What have we done wrong?"

  "Indecent public appearance. And being out in public without a woman. That'll do for starters. And assaulting an officer!" she said, trying to force his arm upward.

  All Howard could think was that she'd gone mad. Maybe they were all mad here. "It is you who have kicked and hit me, and are now trying to twist my arm!" he protested.

  "Cuff him," she snapped. There was a red blush of fury to her features, that contrasted with the painstakingly painted picture pattern on her face. "You can tell your story to the judge."

  They put metal links which clicked shut onto Howard's arms.

  "Right. Let's get the other one," said the woman. "He could be just as dangerous."

  Kretz had walked forward while they were talking. Now, suddenly, abruptly, he began to run headlong. Whether it was a dash for freedom or an attempt to rescue him, Howard never found out, as one of the women brought him down with a running tackle. He too was handcuffed. They were marched forward to a small trolleylike device which had a single wheel and a seat in front and a cage behind, balanced on two wheels. "Take them to central," said one of the the women-a plump one carrying an odd conelike device. "You'll have to go via 34th upramp. Elevator bank three is out."

  "Still?" said the virago who had captured him.

  "Still," said the plump woman. "And it is causing problems enough without your false alarms, Lani."

  "It wasn't a false alarm!" she protested.

  "Right," said the plump woman dryly. "Forty-five officers to deal with two… people. Unarmed people."

  Jezebel-Lani put her hands on her hips. And took a deep breath. "He stole my nightstick! And you have to admit that the other one is not human!"

  "He's a freak, I admit. I've never seen anything like him. Or the other one. But they didn't exactly put up a fight, did they?"

  "You weren't there!"

  "No," said the plump woman. "If I had been we wouldn't have all wasted our time. Now let's move out."

  The cage trolley-driven by one of the underdressed women-she had a belt and sandals-which seemed to be the total uniform of these women, started moving. Its motivational power was something of little miracle to Howard. It just went. There was no horse. It squeaked. In Howard's opinion it needed oiling-but then maybe it was part of the unseen propulsion system.

  "What are they doing with us?" asked Kretz.

  "I don't know," said Howard. "Perhaps they'll take us to some men we can ask. These women don't seem quite sane, as well as being daughters of Magdalen."

  "Oh. I am very afraid, Howard," said Kretz

  Howard didn't want to admit that he was too. Instead he patted Kretz's shoulder-an awkward thing with the cuffs on his hands, but the act seemed to soothe the alien slightly. "I'm sure it will be all right. God will protect us. We'll be taken to see a man in charge, who will put a stop to these women's foolishness."

  "I hope you are right," said Kretz despondently. He closed his eyes and lay back on the bars.

  So Howard sat and looked at the passing world through the bars. In many ways it looked rather like home. There were a few dead areas-like home. Unlike home there were few homesteads. When they did occur they were in clusters. There were also a few people walking-all, Howard noted, naked. There were other wheeled vehicles-a few, rather than many, and not one horse. Then, as they went a little farther-Howard realized why there were so few homesteads. The people here all lived together. On top of each other! There was no greenery here at all! It made him feel claustrophobic just looking at it. And there were plenty of people here. Naked people. Women, mostly, but here and there a woman was trailed by what Howard realized to his shock were painted men. Men who were all smaller than the women they followed. Naked too.

  Howard also noticed that it was warmer here. Well, it would have to be. He was perspiring in the heavy pressure suit, but he certainly didn't fancy the alternative.

  It was thrust on him by force though.

  The cage-trolley had taken them to the back of building, into an enclosed courtyard. From there they'd been taken to a small room, which was overfull of naked women.

  "Strip," said the grim-looking female with a silvery baton who was obviously in charge.

  Kretz began undoing the fastenings on his multicolored suit. Howard stood stock. "That means you too." She touched her baton to Howard's neck.

  It bit him. Jolted him, savagely.

  Howard had never felt anything quite like it. He wasn't keen to do so again. But still, there were some things a man had to stand up for! He folded his arms. "No. It is not decent."

  "Taser him and strip him."

  They did.

  Behind the bars of his new cage Howard wished that he had cooperated. They might not then have cuffed his hands behind his back.

  Kretz, naked but calm-which was more than you could say about the women looking at him-had asked to be allowed to keep his necklet-in which, it appeared, his "Transcomp" resided. The women were willing to accept that he needed it, and that he was alien-on the evidence before their eyes.

  They had examined both of them with a shameless curiosity. "Who has been hiding you two?" one the women asked Howard, staring at him in what was-to put it mildly-a most embarrassing way.

  "No one has hidden us. We're just travelers from outside your habitat. We would like to have our clothes back and go away. We will do you no harm."

  "Darn tootin' you won't," said the grim-looking woman. "Not behind the bars."

  "What are you going to do with us?" asked Kretz, plainly fearful. Howard felt he had to try to deal with his own fear and discomfort to help the poor fellow.

  "You're due up before Judge Garanet in about half an hour. She'll decide," said the grim-looking woman. "Now, go on all of you. Show time's over. I'll call you when you're needed."

  "Ah you just want to have fun with both of them, Sarge," said one of the women, cheerfully. "He's well hung, huh? And the other one is. .. different."
>
  "You've got no mind above your belt, Ruby," said the sergeant, with a glance at Howard, who hastily turned around. There was no wall to face.

  "Nope," said Ruby cheerfully. "What else are they any good for?"

  "We must escape from here," whispered Howard, forgetting that he'd been doing his best to keep up a brave face for Kretz. "They're an evil people without decency or morals."

  "They're still better than the ones in the first bead," said Kretz. "Try not to antagonize them further, Howard. You seem to be offending them."

  Howard thought about it. They certainly offended him. But the council had imposed a stern duty on him to look after Kretz. Kretz felt that he needed help among humans… well, so far Howard had to admit he'd been absolutely useless at that aspect. He would just have to try to ignore his nakedness. It was a heavy cross to bear.

  A little later Kretz was taken out of the cage and led through to an adjoining room. Howard had to stand there alone.

  15

  "The social dynamics of societies have never really been studied with a total absence of external influences. This presents a unique sociological research opportunity second to none. It will finally put real Science into future interventions."

  –

  Dr. G Zola, Chief Operating Officer Sysgov. Psychometrics and Sociological Monitoring and Adjustment.

  "We need to go back to her, Derfel. She's in trouble and so is Kretz. He's out there somewhere," said Abret, trying for a semblance of calm amid the surge of aliens that cramped him. "Look, I'm sorry that I said to her that we needed rescuing, but we do. Unless, well, you haven't given me your local language dataset, can you talk to them? Get them to let us get out of here. Or you can stay if you want to. But Kretz and Selna both need our help."

  By the sour expression, neither of those were popular names. Well, that wasn't surprising. Derfel had had his attentions refused by the better part of the crew. It wasn't his fault, maybe. But it meant that he had a few extra grudges, as if he needed such excuses. "No," he said. "Let Kretz help Selna. You're not making things easier here. They expect you to behave like a leader."

  Abret had made up his mind. He drew the laser pistol. "Tell them that they're to take me to the airlock. You're needed, Derfel. But you can stay here if that's what you want. Let's go. Now."

  Derfel didn't move. "Check your charge meter," he said.

  Abret looked down at it. It was blue. Empty.

  "I expected trouble from you, Abret. You always treated me as if I was fecal matter. Now it is your turn." He spoke to the coterie of brown uniformed aliens in their language, and they advanced warily on him. Abret turned to run.

  Later, in the cell, he realized that that had been a mistake.

  But at least he was alone.

  16

  "A societal structure based on group dominance has an intrinsic problem: it needs an underclass. Without them it has no reason to exist. It needs to keep them down, and this provides cohesiveness and also usually structures the society. For instance, if the discrimination is on the basis of color, then the skin color of the upper echelon will be as far from the color of the repressed as possible. If it is based on religion, leaders will be high priests and the repressed or despised will be apostates, etc."

  From: Elementary Societal Psychodynamics.

  2089. James R. Grey (ed).

  New Harvard Library (Pub.)

  Alone in the cage, Howard prayed, hard, for redemption, for his companion, for guidance, and for a pair of shorts.

  All he got, in the short term, was a prod with a shockstick to chase him into the courtroom. And without the insulation of his suit that really hurt. He was herded like a sheep into a box with railings on the top edge. For a blessing the solid part of that box was just over waist high.

  The room was full. A woman stood up and said. "The pretrial hearing of the male found in the beta-airlock in the presence of the alien is now in session. All rise for Judge Garanet."

  A courtroom full of painted bare breasts did. He was the only male in the place. The paint was as varied as the breasts, a part of Howard's mind noted dispassionately. The rest of him was too shocked, and frightened.

  A middle-aged woman came in and took her seat behind a desk-a desk embossed with a woman-naked-holding a bow in pursuit of what looked rather like a badly drawn sheep, with upright horns.

  "Sit down," she said, in a preoccupied tone. She looked at the papers in front of her. And then at Howard. And then again at Howard, with more interest. "What is your name and which woman is responsible for you?" She asked. "I've got you down as male, unaccompanied."

  Perhaps at last he'd get the opportunity to set things straight. She looked to be a woman of some authority. "My name is Howard Dansson, ma'am," he said respectfully.

  Her expression warmed a little. "And which woman are you bound to, Howard? She needs to be brought before the court, as you know," she explained, as if she was being nice to a small and perhaps slightly mentally deficient child.

  "I am not married, ma'am," replied Howard.

  She blinked. "Married?"

  "Bound to woman in matrimony, ma'am."

  The judge shook her head incredulously. "Where did you get that from? The last time I came across that word I was reading some ancient history. So, you are still in the custody of your mother, Howard."

  "My mother is dead, ma'am," said Howard stiffly.

  She peered thoughtfully at him. Or at his physique. "So, who assumed responsibility for you then, Howard?"

  "I was an adult, ma'am," said Howard wishing that she wouldn't stare so. "I have responsibility for myself, ma'am. As my companion might have said to you, we have come from another habitat. Our customs are a bit different from yours." He remembered that he was supposed to be talking their way out of this mess. "I do apologize for any offense we've caused. We're just passing through. If you could take us to a far airlock and put us out we'd be very grateful. It would be a charitable thing to do."

  She seemed to have ignored most of his statements and focused on the first part. "A place he claimed you called New Helen."

  "New Eden, Ma'am. The Society of Brethren live there." Remembering Kretz's story of the first bead, he added. "We're a peaceful people. I was simply sent to try to help Brother Kretz get home."

  "I have it here," she tapped the paper, "That you assaulted Captain LaGarda. Did you?"

  "No ma'am," he said. "The Society of Brethren do not condone violence. She struck me. When she tried to attack us with her black stick I held onto it to prevent her doing so."

  "I find that hard to believe. That you could hold her off without striking back."

  Howard's patience was getting a little thin. "Ma'am. I can show you, if you like."

  "I do like," said the judge. "Captain LaGarda has something of a reputation. Is she in the court?"

  The painted Jezebel stood up from the front row. The judge had plainly known that she was there. "Ma'am Judge."

  "Captain, take your nightstick and show us how the prisoner attacked you."

  She looked distinctly sulky. "He stole my nightstick, ma'am."

  "So you said," said the judge dryly. There was plainly no love lost between the two of them. "Borrow one from one of your fellow officers, and come and show us." So she did, amid the buzz from the crowded room.

  "You'll have to come out of the dock, Howard," said the judge.

  Blushing furiously, Howard realized that he'd set himself up to leave the comforting shield of wood and walk naked in front of all these women. Well, there was no help for it. Nervously he walked out. "I think you'll have to uncuff him, Sergeant," said the judge, looking him up and down. "It seems a bit unreasonable to expect him to assault anyone with his hands behind his back. Or even to defend himself."

  So one of the women freed his hands. Instinct took over and he immediately put them in front of his privates, and then had to duck to avoid a vicious blow from the Jezebel. She swung again, and this time he caught the black stick, using his
superior height to grab it before it had time to begin its acceleration. The stick still smacked audibly against his flesh. And-just as he had the last time, Howard lifted her off her feet. He felt his muscles stand out with the effort.

  "Nice body," said the judge. "Stop trying to kick him, Captain. He's only doing what I told him to do."

  "Put me down!" yelled the captain.

  So once again Howard did-just a little more gently than last time. She wasn't a quick learner-this Jezebel-or maybe the idea was just too alien for her to grasp. She landed on her derriere again on the courtroom floor. Howard didn't know if it was the landing or the laughter that hurt her most. She was gritting her teeth and looked ready to kill him. "That's what I did, ma'am. Can I let go of this stick now?"

  "I think you've made your point," said the judge. "You can go back to the stand now."

  Howard did, gratefully. Yes, it wasn't the same as being naked before the Brethren. He was almost able to switch it out, pretend that they weren't real women. Almost. But being sheltered behind the wood made it easier.

  "Not you, Captain," said the judge, as the painted Jezebel stood up, rubbing one cheek. "Now. You've claimed in your statement you were assaulted. Will you show me the injuries you sustained?"

  "There aren't any," said the young woman, looking as surly as a Jersey bull-calf.

  "Oh?" said the judge. "In the violent assault on an officer, known for her combat skills, the male who has just proved he is capable of lifting your considerable bulk, inflicted not one bruise? The idea behind pretrials is to stop the court wasting its time on the mendacious and malicious rubbish. I think that it has just proved its worth as a process, don't you?"

  You don't tease Jersey bulls, thought Howard.

  The captain stood her ground, chin lifted. "There is still the matter of the indecent public appearance. Being out without a woman. And the theft of a weapon."