David Palmer - Emergence

Rollo pursed lips thoughtfully. Then nodded approvingly. “Fair enough, sir. And spoken like a gentleman. Thank you.”

Turned to me. “I’m sorry; I misapprehended the relationship between you. I think I have it now.

“All right; are you willing to share Adam with me, or must we fight over him?”

If Adam startled before, completely dumbfounded now. Mouth flapped soundlessly. And surely doing no better myself.

Situation static for long moments. Rollo stared, aspect implacably serious, waiting for reply. Then eyes twinkled. Seconds later snickered, went directly thence to belly-laughing. Tears running down cheeks before managed to stop.

Personally saw nothing funny, but held counsel, pending explanation.

“Oh, I am sorry,” he puffed at length. “I wish I had a picture of your faces just then.

“Okay…” Rollo sobered finally; mood darkened, became almost somber. “I gave you both a shock. I did it deliberately to make sure that I had your undivided attention. I was teasing, of course; sex is the Oldest Funny Subject, and it’s easy to get sidetracked. Besides, it sometimes helps to joke when the issue is serious. And this is very serious.

“You two are too young to understand just how serious sex can be in an adult world. But believe me when I tell you: No subject lies closer to the raw, untamed primitive in every man. Men have killed, and will kill again, over sex. Sex is serious business: That’s a boiler-plate given; an unalterable fact of life. Don’t forget it. Ever.

“Now, I don’t know whether you two have become sexually involved yet or not — frankly, I don’t care. That’s history; it’s none of my business. What is my business is the fact that I am a healthy adult male. I’m in the prime of life. I was married for five wonderful years to an equally healthy adult woman, whose sex drive was as well-developed as mine. We enjoyed an enthusiastic, extremely active, and marvelously fulfilling sex life…”

Paused, eyed me bleakly. “I miss her — and it — very much.”

Adam later reported was tossup whether my eyes or mouth open wider.

Rollo nodded sympathetically; continued gently: “Yes, that’s precisely what I’m getting at. And yes, you are younger than anyone with whom I’ve contemplated sexual relations. But not by much.

“I got involved with a girl almost your age during the time I was stationed in Ujjain. She was a street child: no parents, no means of support, starving, regularly raped. I took her in to protect her — that’s what I told myself. And for a good two months that’s just what I did. Then one night she turned up in my bed and matters continued predictably from there. She claimed she was 14 when we first became intimate — I have my doubts. ‘Love’ was not involved on either side; we were merely very fond of each other and had complementary needs: Hers were for food, shelter, and protection; mine were for companionship, someone to take care of, and a sexual outlet.

“When I was transferred, two years later, I left her with friends, a good family, with a trust fund to take care of her — in India, back then, it didn’t take much money to accomplish such things. Thereafter she married well and, by the time of the attack, had three children. I’ve never experienced any guilt at having ‘taken advantage of a child’; and if she harbored any resentment, she never gave any indication of it — then or since, and we corresponded regularly.

“In fact, she brought the subject up herself once in a letter shortly after the birth of her first son — women’s lib hadn’t gotten very far in India by then; sons were important. She observed that she had me to thank for her happiness: her husband, her son — her very life. It bothered her that she would never be able to repay the debt she felt she owed me; it disturbed her even more that she could never make me understand the magnitude of that debt.

“I mention her as an example of the variability of the concept of right and wrong, depending on place and time. That was there and then: It was socially acceptable.

“Now, before the attack — here and recently — I’d have been leading the tar-and-feather brigade myself if I got wind of someone my age suggesting sex with someone your age: It would have been wrong within the social structure that existed.

“However, this is here and now. That social structure no longer exists — and with it have disappeared the laws and mores of which it consisted. Right and wrong no longer have meaning except where specific individuals meet and apply them to issues affecting them both. All that remains is the principle of enlightened self-interest, when dealing with reasonable people, and superior-versus-inferior force otherwise.

“One of the key elements of enlightened self-interest is the principle of supply and demand. Anyone possessing a commodity for which there is a demand is in a position to set her own price.

“But price is a very delicate question, and requires knowledge of all the factors potentially bearing upon the transaction. One of the more important of those factors is the presence or absence of competition, and the importance of your offering to the marketplace. If your commodity isn’t particularly critical and there’s plenty of other outlets, setting your price too high merely means no demand. However, where you have a monopoly, you can set any price you like; and if it’s a really vital commodity, your customers will manage to scrape up the price, somehow.

“Or…” — Rollo fixed me with gimlet eye — “… if they perceive that you’re taking unfair advantage of your position, they may simply take it from you. By force.

“I’ve started out discussing abstracts,” he continued quietly; “but you know as well as I do that we’re talking about two specifics: you and sex. Like it or not, to every male over the age of ten you represent supply — a commodity . It’s not fair, I’ll grant you, but it is a fact: Through no fault of your own, you are in the position of holding the key to satisfying a need — an extremely urgent need. Unless you administer that commodity in a manner perceived by your market as fair and reasonable, you’re going to find yourself in frequent trouble, at best — at worst, and much more likely, you’re going to find out what it’s like to have control over your commodity taken from you. Yes, by force.”

Rollo noticed me slowly edging chair back from table. Possessed no inkling of real capabilities, intentions, should events continue in direction indicated; probably thought was preparing to bolt. But immediately sought to quiet fears.

“Please don’t get the idea that I would use force,” he stated emphatically. “I wouldn’t — ever . Sex with Sally was such a joy, so much just plain fun for both of us — I got at least as much pleasure from watching her enjoyment as from my own physical sensations — that I’d rather give it up entirely than have an unwilling partner, or even a grudging one.”

Paused, then, eyes closed. Expression unreadable, but impression of an empty space somehow materialized next to him. Briefly Rollo looked terribly alone.

Moment passed. Opened eyes; shook himself all over. “ But,” he continued resolutely, “I am certainly in the minority in that regard. Hell, I’m probably unique.” Smiled wanly.

Assurance had desired calming effect: Relaxed, settled back in chair, watching alertly. Never truly concerned over outcome had Rollo offered to supplement advocacy with violence, but happier knowing demonstration unnecessary.