Suzette Elgin - Native Tongue

“This is a definite oversight,” said Thomas coldly. “We can’t have this sort of thing.”

Rachel sighed. “Thomas,” she said, staring at his chest. “I have told you again and again. We can only spread the language coverage just so far. Even if every one of us knew fifty languages with flawless native skill, we couldn’t be in more than one place at a time. And we women cannot produce children any faster, or in any greater quantity, than we are doing already — if you have complaints, you men might turn your attention to that problem.”

Thomas was suddenly very much aware that he and Rachel had been standing there in the middle of the house wrangling for a good five minutes, and that the wrangle was on the verge of escalating into a scene. The quiet that surrounded them told him careful attention was being paid to their every word, and he cursed himself silently for not taking Rachel straight to their room the moment he saw that she was upset — heaven knew he should have sense enough by now to know that was required.

“Rachel,” he said quickly, “you’re very tired.”

“Yes, I am. And very worried.”

He took her by one elbow and began moving her firmly down the stairs toward a decent privacy, talking calmly as they went. “I don’t think that either the fatigue or your worry is the result of one child who’s either eaten something she shouldn’t have or has some minor vi-bug bothering her. And I also do not think that it comes from your own work — as I recall, you’ve had only three days’ interpreting in the past five. I think you’ve been wearing yourself out with that nonsense at Barren House.”

He felt her stiffen, and he kept her moving right along.

“I mean what I say, now,” he continued. “I understand that you women have a good time — ” he paused to usher her through a door and close it behind them “ — playing with your language. For the women at Barren House who have no family responsibilities I think it makes an excellent hobby. It’s perfectly reasonable that women would want an artificial language of their own for a pastime, and I’ve never tried to keep you from participating. But you, Rachel, cannot really spare time right now for a hobby, no matter how fashionable. And I won’t have you wearing yourself out at Langlish meetings and coming home so badtempered and nervous that it’s impossible to get along with you. Is that clear, Rachel?”

“Yes, Thomas. It’s clear.” The lines bit deep in her face, and she was so taut that if he’d touched her she would have quivered like a bowstring. He ignored that, as was suitable.

“Now, I am not concerned personally about this illness of Nazareth’s,” he went on. “She gets excellent medical care. Whatever this is, I’m sure you’ve blown it up completely out of proportion. But I am concerned — very concerned — about the negotiations at the ILO. And I expect Nazareth to be there, and to be in a condition that allows her to carry on her duties with her usual efficiency. For that reason, Rachel, and for that reason only, I’m willing to compromise.”

“In what way?”

“I’ll authorize a contact with the hospital’s Emergency Room computers, to be paid from Household accounts because it’s a business expense — you needn’t put it on the women’s medical accounts. If the ER-comps think a doctor is necessary, I’ll authorize that as well — but not a house call. You can take her to the doctors, if that actually appears to be necessary.”

“Thank you, Thomas.”

Rachel would have turned to leave him then, but he reached out and stopped her, feeling the jerk of her shoulder under his hand with annoyance. Too tightly strung, much too wound up… one more thing for him to see to if he could ever get a moment’s spare time.

“Rachel,” he said sternly, “I don’t want any repetition of this.”

“Thomas — ”

“I suggest you make a few entries, Rachel. Nazareth is to go to bed one hour earlier; if that crowds her schedule, she’ll just have to give up her evening freetime. I want her diet run through the computers in complete detail, and anything at all that isn’t being provided in proper amounts I want straightened out. I don’t want her allowed to skip any of the manual labor sessions — and I’d add swimming. See that she does twenty laps daily, unless you have permission from me for her to skip them. And don’t come asking me to excuse her because she’s having menstrual cramps, I won’t have that sort of foolishness. Increase the vitamins she’s getting, and if — as I expect — no doctor is needed tonight, you get her in for a complete checkup just as soon as she’s free tomorrow.”

“Before or after she swims the twenty laps, Thomas?”

If Thomas had been many husbands, he would have slapped her face, then. She knew that; and she stood before him as insolent as he’d ever seen her, holding her head tilted and ready to his hand, inviting the blow.

“Get to your daughter,” he said quietly. “I am disgusted with you.”

She went away without a word, leaving him with his heart pounding in his ears, taking slow deep breaths to calm himself. Thank God those last few sentences had been spoken in this room, and not as an entertainment for the Household. And he was quite preprared for the polite knock at the door that came almost immediately — that would be his brother Adam, come to presume on being only two years Thomas’ junior and offer him advice.

“Yes, Adam?”

“She’s a bit above herself, Tom.”

“Penetrating observation on your part.”

“Now, Thomas… sarcasm isn’t going to improve the situation.”

Thomas waited. You never had to wait long with Adam, who loved the sound of his own voice.

“I’m not sure I’d be either willing or able to tolerate such behavior from a woman.” Adam said judiciously. “And I’m not sure it’s a good idea, although your patience is admirable. You either keep a woman under tight rein, or she gets beyond you, and then it’s Barren House time. Not that I mean to tell you what to do, of course, Thomas.”

“My apologies for the commotion,” Thomas said. “Sorry it disturbed you.”

“Oh, well.” Adam shrugged, being magnanimous. “You know how women are when they’ve got a sick kid… they lose what little sense they started with. Rachel’s been roaring around here for the past hour as if Nazareth was on the point of death… she’s worn herself out. I hope you’ve put an end to her hysterics, Thomas — that would let us all get some sleep.”

Thomas nodded, keeping himself on the tight rein that Adam was recommending for the females. Ignoring the implication that because he couldn’t keep his wife in order the entire Household was being disturbed and kept from its rest. As though every bedroom in this house were not completely soundproof… Rachel could have played a fife and drum up and down the halls, and not one soul would have had his sleep disturbed.

He knew what was behind Adam’s behavior, and why Adam could never let an opportunity like this pass. It was not because he was an interfering pest, poor sod — it was because he was afflicted with a wife so vindictive and so melodramatic that no one could tolerate her company, and he had absolutely no control over her at all except the law. Which left him with an irresistible drive to control other men’s women, just to prove that he did know how it was done. His control of numbers was not sufficient consolation for the way that Gillian humiliated him at every turn.

“Come take a look at something I stumbled over today, Thomas,” the man was saying. “Have a glass of wine with me… get your mind off the fool woman.”

“Thanks, Adam, I appreciate it, but I can’t spare the time. I was behind before I got here, and now I’ll be half the night catching up.”