Worlds Apart (19 page)

"No need," said Bentley. He sighed and yawned suddenly. He seemed relieved; tired but somehow lighter. "I'll show you. They're on the other side of New Paris. We were never supposed to destroy them, you know. It was known we might need them some day."

In an old Terran phrase, Rog, looking for a pin, had found a guinea.

2

Toni knew she was just about to break. It was a question, now, of lasting from session to session. Every morning, every afternoon, every evening they worked on her. All the sessions were handled by Phyllis Barton; it was a full-time job for her, apparently.

It was seldom brutal, the interrogation. It was rather on the principle of the drop of water on the prisoner's forehead, nothing at first, then an irritation, then a ceaseless, tormenting hammering on his skull.

Toni's healthy body stubbornly persisted in recovering from the various outrages on it. She was seldom prostrate for more than an hour after Phyllis had left her.

The only way Toni found it possible to keep the secret was to live from hour to hour. When she opened her eyes in the morning she looked no further than the moment when she would see Phyllis. She could he content till then, because nothing was happening to her. She could even enjoy breakfast and the morning air when she was taken out for exercise and the thought that the whole mighty ship was chained here, with all its crew, because she had managed to stay silent

Then Phyllis would come or she would he tiken to her. Toni bore it by telling herself that in two hours at the most it would be over -- the prospect of mere absence of pain was rosier than anticipation of the pleasantest things had been in the past.

The respite would come, and as quickly go. Time ran at two speeds for Toni these days.

After the second session the day began to look brighter. For there was only one more period of pain and fear, and then fourteen hours of peace.

But the day, so far, was only starting for Toni. She had been wakened, and had had breakfast -- it was time for someone to take her out for the morning's exercise. The door rattled.

It was Phyllis Barton. Toni had to make a terrific effort not to break down. On such things as this her brief contentment lived and died these days. She had expected at least an hour of comparative freedom. And instead, Phyllis came early.

But Phyllis was smiling. "Not today, Toni," she said gently. "You can tell me where Lemon is if you like. But if you don't, nothing will happen to you. Not today."

Toni was silent, guarded. She had met tricks like this before. One session had consisted almost entirely of false stops, heartbreaking in their disappointment.

"In fact," said Phyllis, "I'm taking you out for a walk, where you can reaily know no one is listening."

"Except you."

"Of course. But is the companion who's actually there so terrible? Isn't it the knowledge that someone else is listening, all the time, someone you can't see?"

Toni was even more puzzled. Of course it was. She would talk with anyone, even Phyllis, more freely away from this vast prison of a ship where every whisper might be overheard. She wanted to talk, even with Phyllis.

But she wasn't going to talk about the location of Lemon.

Phyllis threw something on the bed. Toni looked, then stared. She had been wearing out what clothes she had with her, and for the rest Clade trunks and shirts she had been given -- menial women's clothes, but new and clean. The cuffed shorts and half blouse Phyllis threw down, however, were brand new, cut delicately in a beautiful cloth she had never seen -- blue and shiny and soft, except where it was stiffened, and curiously cool to the touch.

It could hardly he more obvious that the Clades, Phyllis in particular, were belatedly trying to please her, win her over. Could they possibly hope to succeed?

"No," said Phyllis, guessing at the question in Toni's mind, "but -- shall we go out?"

Toni put on the new clothes. There were also open-toed sandals; the feel of the whole outfit was wonderful, light, cool and delicate. This she preferred to torture, any day. She was not merely willing, but eager to play along with this sort of treatment. If Phyllis wanted her to talk, she would talk -- about anything but where Lemon was.

They went along the plain steel corridors that Toni now felt she knew almost as well as a Clade. They saw no one. Phyllis operated the lock, and they jumped lightly to the ground. The ship was silent and still. Outside, it was morning, and if it was the silent, prosaic morning of Mundis at least it was open and free and bracing.

"On Secundis," Phyllis remarked, "the morning is much grander than this. In fact, it can be frightening. You'll see."

It was the first admission of this that had been made to Toni. So the Clades came from Secundis, that bright, glorious world . . . Toni felt rather sorry. Secundis was such a beautiful sight in the night sky, she hated to think of the Clades living there.

Phyllis was leading the way, but when Toni veered slightly she said nothing, but followed. Toni had wondered if she was being led to a spot that looked deserted, but where every word she said could be heard, as usual. They were nearly a mile from the Clades now, there was no sign of life anywhere, and Phyllis was letting her go where she liked -- they couldn't have scores of square miles wired, surely?

"Just a minute," said Phyllis. They had come to a large, flat stone. She took off her tunic and folded it neatly. Her slacks, her shirt. Underneath she wore a replica of Toni's clothes, but in canary yellow. Toni stared again. Phyllis stretched herself luxuriously, and to Toni's amazement kicked out one long leg after the other with sheer pleasure.

"It feels wonderful," she said, echoing Toni's own thought. "You might have no clothes on at all and yet, it feels better than having no clothes on."

She caressed the sheer yellow material that covered her hip. Toni had to keep reminding herself that this was Lieutenant Phyllis Barton, Clade, torturer. She looked like a particularly attractive Mundan.

"Let's walk," said Phyllis. She seemed glad to get away from her uniform. "Had to wear that till we were clear. Someone would have thrown a fit."

Without warning she turned a somersault on the grass. This is very clever, Toni told herself coldly, and it's very well done. Just in a moment, or perhaps quite a while from now, after we've talked for a long time about other things, a casual, innocent-looking question will be thrown in, and if I'm not going to answer it, I have to decide one thing now -- I don't know where Lemon is, and I couldn't find it if I tried.

"Before you decide you're mad," said PhyLlis cheerfully, "I'd better tell you what this is all about. But first, I want to be sure no one can hear us."

That put Toni on her guard again, as if that was necessary. "Even the strongest amplifier," said Phyllis, "can hardly hear us over a mile away, with this swirling air breaking up sound and rustling the grass and bushes. I know -- I've tried it, at exercise time. And there can hardly be a mike in every bush -- anyway, we haven't that much wire aboard."

If she could only knock Phyllis unconscious somehow, Toni thought, she would have quite a good chance of getting away. Might as well say if she could fly. She had quite often managed to hit Phyllis, and Phyllis had never admitted noticing it.

"Listen," said Phyllis. "For the first time, I'm fully in charge of what's done with you. I'm not apologizing -- I'm only saying that up to now I've been under orders."

Very likely, thought Toni. Is that supposed to make me love you for what you've been doing?

"I'd better tell you how the change came about," Phyllis went on, and described events having to do with Corey and a recording that were largely incomprehensible to Toni. "The result is," Phyllis concluded gleefully, "that Corey is all but out on his ear, and I can handle you as I like."

"What differance does that make to me?" asked Toni carefully.

Phyllis waved her arm. "Well, this, for a start. I'm not going to lie to you, Toni. I have to get the location of Lemon from you. That's my job, and even if I didn't have to do it, I'd want to do it."

"Why?"

"Because there are Mundans and Clades, and, for me, the Clades have to be top dogs."

"I wish," said Toni, "I could take you, alone, to Lemon and let you see how we live, what it's like, how we get on with each other. Then we could find out whether you'd still want the Clades to be top dogs."

"I still would. I look after myself, Toni. That's why I rank about eighth among all Clades, at twenty-four, though I'm a woman. That and the fact that I can work things out, and . . . "

"I wish you could meet Rog," said Toni.

"Rog?"

"I was married to him once. Before John, He's like you -- Rog, I mean. Confident, calculating, a little cold by the standards of ordinary people like me . . . "

She stopped, suddenly terrified. From the way Phyllis started she thought for a moment she had given something away.

"What did you just say?" Phyllis asked.

"By the standards of ordinary people like me."

"Yes," said Phyllis wonderingiy. "You mean it. I'm just trying to understand what kind of community you have, that's all. We don't dare say we're ordinary. That somebody else is, sure." More briskly, she demanded: "Are you told to say that?"

"What?"

"That you're ordinary."

"But I am ordinary."

"Are you told to say it?" repeated Phyllis, a little impatiently.

"By whom?"

"Your officers, your leaders."

"We haven't any officers. Or leaders, in the way you mean."

"Then you aren't told to say it," mused Phyllis. "Do you really believe you're ordinary?"

Toni flushed slightly. "Well, I'm pretty. More than average."

"And you're proud of that?"

"Of course. Aren't you?"

"You mean I am, too?"

Toni was beginning to enjoy this. For one thing, Phyllis was a human beisg after all. Pretense could only go so far. People acting a part were only acting so much. A naturally silent man could only act a talker for so long. And Phyllis /felt/ right. Toni hadn't forgotten that Phyllis had tortured her. She would never forget it. But she could get on with her -- she was getting on with her. They were in communication at last, sharing ideas, admitting beliefs.

For another thing, Toni was beginning to realize that she understood Phyllis better than Phyllis understood her. She had seen something of the Clades, after all, and one could just see how people might get like that.

Phyllis hadn't seen Lemon, and couldn't understand how people might get like the Mundans. So as they talked, Toni had the confidence of knowing she was really more in control of the situation than Phyllis was.

She had left Phyllis waiting, wondering if she was pretty.

"Among your people," said Toni shrewdly, "that doesn't matter, does it?"

"Matter?" repeated Phyllis, with a rather hard laugh. "We pretend beauty doesn't exist. Because beauty is weakness."

"Rubbish," retorted Toni.

"I know. I know that because you're beautiful -- I don't think there's any real doubt of that, however little we know of beauty. But you're not weak. Not really."

Toni know the compliment really meant something, because it came from a Clade.

"Beauty is . . . " Toni shrugged. "A gift from God, but you Clades won't have anything to do with God, will you?"

Christinity was not entirely dead among the Clades, not completely stamped out. Remnants of it existed among the women. It didn't matter what they believed.

"If you say you know there's a God," said Phyllis slowly, "I'll believe you."

Toni smiled. "Not exactly. But if you said you knew there wasn't, I wouldn't."

There was a long silence. They were still walking, and it was still away from the ship. Presently however, Phyllis jumped on a stone and waved, regularly yet with intervals Toni couldn't have matched without practice.

Phyllis jumped down again. "They're watching us," she admitted. "If I didn't do that they'd come out for us. Toni, I want to take up what we've been saying, but I don't dare stay out here with you too long at one time. Is that frank enough for you?"

"Why not?"

"Nobody is trusted too much among us. Yes, I'm trusted with you -- I could kill you, which would be a death penalty offense, or let you kill yourself, which would come to the same thing, or contrive your escape -- it wouldn't he easy, but I could do it. I'm trusted not to do these things, but if you still hate me you can ask to speak to Corey and tell him all I've said to you and I'll be shot. You believe that?"

Toni decided to answer that frankly. Phyllis was telling her a lot -- undoubtedly, Toni thought, more than she was supposed to tell her. The situation was becoming complicated. Toni had only once before wished she was cleverer than she was. That was when she had been trying to win back Rog.

"Not quite," she said, with a grin. "Most of it, yes. But I don't think you'd leave yourself without a loophole."

Phyllis frowned, then laughed. "Right," she said. "Exactly right. You're cleverer than I thought. Anyway, there will be plenty of time for talk, but not much more just now. And I want to tell you a few things yet."

She paused. "Can I trust you?" she asked bluntly.

On the face of it, that was a stupid question. "What does that mean?" Toni asked guardedly.

"I'm going to say some things that aren't covered by the loophole I've left. My only safeguard is your promise to trust me rather than Corey and the others."

Toni had nothing to lose. She said: "I trust you and I promise."

"Thhey may make promises and tell you lies," Phyllis warned, "Oh well, you have enough sense to know that half an ally is better . . . than no ally at all. I told you I still meant to get your secret out of you. I do. I will. But I'm not going to torture you, since I have the choice now -- not with physical pain, anyway. I'm not going to let you sleep until you tell, that's all."

After what had been Toni's life for weeks now, this seemed like the end of her troubles. Phyllis saw her expression and added:

"I don't want you saying I didn't warn you, or you didn't understand. That's more certain than torture -- if it had been that from the start you'd have told us by now. When I say no sleep, I mean it. You'll be kept awake twenty-four hours of the day. Is that clear?"