Suzette Elgin - Native Tongue

“Certainly.”

“I’ll get back to you, then.”

He turned and took the stairs down to the lower floors two at a time, while Clara watched him with the perfect hatred of long practice.

“So she’s to be discharged today?”

“So Clara tells me.”

“Isn’t that awfully quick?”

Aaron shrugged and smiled. “You know how she is. If she sets her mind to something, that’s the end of it.”

“Very like her mother.”

“No doubt.”

“And she wants to go straight to Barren House from the hospital rather than coming home?”

“Yes… wants the women to send her things on ahead. I suppose she’ll want her books sent, but I won’t permit that. She doesn’t need them with her, and I’m used to having them here.”

“Of course,” agreed Thomas. “Well… what do you want to do about this?”

“I say we should let her have her way,” said Aaron carelessly. “Why force her to come here if she’d rather not? She’s been through quite an ordeal… first the illness, then all that lasering and mauling about… if it would make her happy to go on to Barren House, why not let her?”

“You don’t mind, Aaron? Are you sure?”

The two men looked at each other, and knew they were thinking the same thing. IF SHE COMES BACK HERE, EVEN IF SHE SAYS NOTHING AT ALL ABOUT IT, SHE’LL BE A CONSTANT REPROACH. THE WOMEN WILL LOOK AT HER, AND THEY’LL LOOK AT US AND THEIR EYES WILL SAY “YOU STINGY CHEAP BASTARDS” EVEN IF THEY KEEP THEIR MOUTHS SHUT. THE WOMEN THINK WE SHOULD HAVE AUTHORIZED THE BREAST REGENERATIONS FOR HER… THEY WILL FIND A WAY TO CONSTANTLY REMIND US THAT THAT IS HOW THEY FEEL.

“I wouldn’t want to stand in her way at a time like this,” said Aaron solemnly. “It would be unkind, and unreasonable. I think — unless you have strong objections — that she should be humored in this. After all, she can still come here to see the children as often as she wishes… and her services continue to be available to the Household as always. Why cause her unnecessary distress?”

“You’re very logical about it,” Thomas observed. “I’m glad to see that.”

The room was quiet, both of them thinking, and then Aaron decided that there would be no better time than this moment, while Thomas was apparently pleased with him.

“Thomas,” he said, “Nazareth and I haven’t been very… happy… together.”

“Well… she was always odd. It’s not difficult to understand.”

“Do you suppose under the circumstances that — ” Aaron stopped, judiciously, as if the words were difficult for him to use.

“Well? That what?”

“How would you perceive the prospect of a divorce for us, Thomas? For Nazareth and me?”

The older man frowned, and his body went rigid; he made Aaron wait. And then he said, “We don’t approve of divorce, Adiness.”

“I’m aware of that, sir. I don’t approve of it myself, nor does my family.”

“It was all that divorcing and musical beds that damn near wrecked this country in the twentieth century,” Thomas stated with considerable fervor. “We’ve been a long time coming out of that, a long time returning life to its right and natural form… I’m not sure I care to contribute to holding back the progress of that change.”

Aaron spoke cautiously; it wouldn’t do to give Thomas the idea that he wasn’t for the American Way and the Sanctity of the Home and all the rest of it. Hell, he’d been to Homeroom, just like everybody else: he knew the drill.

“There is no law against divorce,” he pointed out.

“No. But it is mightily disapproved of. Ordinarily the public disapproves of it very strongly unless the woman in question has been institutionalized for life, or is a flagrant adultress… lord knows the closest poor Nazareth ever came to adultery was that idiot caper whispering into Jordan Shannontry’s ear. I’m afraid that’s not flagrant enough. I don’t think a divorce could be managed without a lot of public outcry… especially not in the present circumstances.”

“Sir, is this a matter of your own personal convictions, or is it a question to be settled on the basis of public reaction?”

“I do not approve of divorce!” Thomas snapped. “Where my personal opinions are concerned, a contract is a contract — and the marriage contract is as valid and binding as any other. Divorce, except in the most extreme cases, is nothing more than self-indulgence. This nation is under severe enough strain from the shocks of contact with the Alien civilizations, and the drive to settle the space colonies and bring them up to a decent living standard… it is crucially important that we preserve our cultural fabric and set it well above our personal convenience.”

Thomas was going to turn him down, Aaron thought. For the sake of the effing public and its little pointy heads. And the fact that Aaron would be condemned to spend the rest of his life with a woman so mutilated that no decent man could look at her without revulsion was not going to sway him. It was bitter, and he was not ready to accept it. Not quite yet.

“Well, sir,” he said, “I will of course abide by your decision. But I think you should know that I don’t think I could force myself to share your daughter’s bed now… not as she is now. And a man needs sexual release if he is to be useful to his Household… I’m certain that you know that as well as I do, Thomas.”

Ah. Thomas felt that, and he narrowed his eyes to consider its implications. This was a new factor in the equation. He was quite certain that no one in the Household, not even Rachel, suspected his relationship with Michaela Landry. He had been discreet to such a degree that he had almost suspected himself of a mild paranoia on the subject, and he knew there was no question about being able to trust Michaela. But Aaron had always been crafty, sly, given to meddling when he thought there was advantage for him… If he did suspect, and saw himself denied “sexual release” while Thomas dallied outside Rachel’s bed, he could make a lot of trouble and make it safely. However stodgy the American public of 2205 might be about divorce, it wasn’t a patch on their feelings about adultery. It was done, of course. In moderation, and with taste. But to be caught at it was unforgivable. How much did Adiness know?

The dark handsome eyes looked back at him, guileless and open — much too guileless and open for his tastes — and Thomas knew he could not be sure. What had he said? That he was certain Thomas knew of a man’s needs for sexual release as well as he did? No, he could not be sure.

The decision made, Thomas didn’t dawdle.

“Do you think,” he asked, “that you could do this with extreme delicacy?”

“Of course, Thomas.”

“And with the utmost degree of courtesy?”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“I mean that, for a change , you would treat Nazareth as if you valued her. I mean that you would speak to her courteously in public, that you would no longer make her the source of your reputation for clever conversation and delightful jokes — oh, I’m not a total fool, Adiness, however much I may refrain from meddling in the marital arrangements of others! And I mean that when you encountered Nazareth by chance before others you would defer to her as to a lady for whom you felt respect. I will not have it said that we first allowed her to be mutilated to such an extent that she was no longer acceptable to you, and then kicked her out of the Household brutally as a divorced woman, with no excuse but our economies! Surely you are capable of understanding that.”

“Indeed, sir — I understand precisely what you mean. And you can count on me.”