Cat Country (7 page)

After they had tied me up and thrown me into that little boat, they had all taken a shortcut to that sky-topped little room to wait for the river to bring me to them. They themselves were so afraid of water that they didn’t dare get in the boat with me. If the pilotless boat turned over on the way, then, of course, the fault would be with my own bad luck and have nothing to do with them. The room was not far from a stretch of sand where the river almost totally dried up, so they knew the boat would surely run aground at that spot.

Once having installed me in the little room, they had gone home for a meal of reverie leaves. They could not carry the precious leaf with them, for travelling about with a supply of reverie leaves would be very dangerous indeed. For this reason, they seldom took long walks; the risk they had taken in coming out to the spot where I had crashed was a special exception.

Scorpion’s stand of trees was closest to the little room, but it was still a long time before he came to visit me as one must always take a nap after a meal of reverie leaves. He knew that the others were unlikely to return before taking naps, and given the head start afforded by the proximity of his stand of trees, he fully expected to get there first and make off with me. But no sooner had he arrived than the others turned up; he had been unprepared for that. ‘Fortunately, you scared them away with that
yishu
,’ he said, pointing at my pistol as though he felt especially grateful to it. (After that he began calling anything that was difficult to describe as
yishu
.) Now I began to understand everything that had happened to me since my arrival. I asked him, ‘What were those leg-irons made of?’

He shook his head and told me that all he knew about the material was that it had come from abroad. ‘We import a lot of foreign things because they’re so convenient to use,’ he said, ‘but we’d never stoop to imitating them, for we are the most ancient of all the countries on Mars.’ He closed his mouth for a while and then observed, ‘When we go walking we always have to take handcuffs and leg irons with us.’ Perhaps he was making a simple statement of fact, or perhaps he was pulling my leg – I couldn’t tell.

I asked him where he stayed at night. That little sky-topped hole that I had occupied was the only structure I had seen in the forest, and I was sure he must go to some other place to sleep. He didn’t seem interested in answering my question, but rather asked me if I’d give him a stick of
yishu
so that he might show it to the emperor. I gave him a match and broke off my questioning on his sleeping habits; for in a society where people emphasise freedom a great deal, everyone must have his own secrets.

I asked him if he had a family. He nodded his head. ‘After we’ve harvested the reverie leaves, you can go home with me and see for yourself,’ he said.

I wondered what tasks he had in mind for me back at his home. ‘Where is your home?’ I asked.

‘In the capital where the emperor resides. There are lots of foreigners there. You’ll be able to see your own friends.’

‘I am from Earth. I don’t know any Martians.’

‘Well, you’re a foreigner anyway, and all foreigners are friends.’

There was no point in explaining things to him any further. I just hoped that we’d get the reverie leaf harvest in quickly so that I could go to the capital and have a look around.

A LAND OF PEEPING TOMS

M
Y RELATIONSHIP
with Scorpion, as I perceived it, could never be one of friendship. That’s the way I saw it at any rate. Perhaps he was sincere in wanting to be my friend, but I simply couldn’t bring myself to like him. For even if he was sincere, then – and this was true of all the Cat People – even his sincerity would be totally self-centred. For it seemed that the main reason Scorpion made friends was in order to use people for his own benefit. During the past three or four months I had not for a single day put out of my mind the desire to go and bury the corpse of my old friend. But Scorpion availed himself of every means he could devise to prevent me from doing so. This in itself was an indication of his selfishness; it also showed that the concept of friendship was totally foreign to the minds of the Cat People. I say he was selfish because to him it seemed the only thing that I’d come to Mars for was to guard the reverie trees. I say the concept of friendship was foreign to him because he forever reminded me that my friend was ‘already dead, so what’s the point in going to him?’

He refused to give me directions for getting back to the place where my friend’s body was, and he watched over me like a hawk to make sure I didn’t try to find the way myself. Actually if I took my time (all I’d have to do would be to follow the bank of that river), I’d certainly be able to find that area again. But every time that I got more than half a mile out of the forest, Scorpion would be sure to pop up out of nowhere and block my path. He’d stop me, but he wouldn’t try to take me back by physical force. Instead, he’d tell me about a number of stories in which he figured as the victim, and make me feel sorry for him, as though he were an old widow relating her tale of woe. Snivelling and wiping the tears from his eyes, he’d go on and on; and before I knew it, he’d make me forget my own troubles completely. Behind my back, no doubt, he pursed his lips and sniggered at me for being such a simpleton; but even realising this, I still wasn’t able to harden my heart against him. In fact, I almost began to admire him!

I didn’t entirely believe all that he told me and decided to check things out for myself. But he’d already guarded against that, for he never allowed any of the other inhabitants of the reverie forest to get close to me. I saw them only from a distance, for whenever I dashed over in their direction, they would immediately disappear. This certainly must have been in compliance with orders issued by Scorpion.

I decided not to eat any more of the reverie leaves. Scorpion’s exhortations against such a course were exceedingly smooth, sincere and devious. ‘You can’t stop eating them as you’ll get thirsty, and water is scarce,’ he said. ‘Moreover, if you stop eating them, you’ll have to bathe – and what a bother that would be! Besides, other foods are too expensive, and not good to eat anyway. And the atmosphere contains a slow-acting poison that the reverie leaves protect against; you will surely die if you stop eating them!’

Despite all this, I still held fast to my decision not to eat them any more. Then he started snivelling and wiping his eyes again; I knew that this was his last resort. However, this time I couldn’t afford to be soft, for I realised that Scorpion’s plan was to have me eat reverie leaves until I became just like the Cat People. I couldn’t allow him to manipulate me at his own sweet will like that, and I had already made the mistake of being too easygoing with him. I wanted to get back to a human kind of existence. I wanted to eat, drink and bathe. I was not going to allow myself to metamorphose into something only
half
-alive, like the Cat People. If by going without reverie leaves I could live humanly and rationally as I had before, then it would still be worth it even if I only lived a few weeks. Even if I were to be offered eight thousand years of the half-dead existence of a Cat Person, I should still refuse it. I explained this to Scorpion, but he was, of course, unable to understand. He probably concluded that my brain must be made of stone. But, come hell or high water, I had made up my mind on this point and I would not change it.

After negotiating this point with him for three days without arriving at any conclusion, I was forced to resort to my revolver. However, I had not forgotten the concept of fair play, and placing the revolver on the ground between us, I told Scorpion, ‘If you insist on my eating the reverie leaves, then one of us has to die. Either I kill you or you kill me, I don’t care which. You decide!’ Scorpion ran six or seven yards in the other direction. He couldn’t kill me. A gun in his hand was less useful than a stalk of straw in the hands of a foreigner. Besides, he wanted me, not my revolver.

We arrived at a compromise: I’d eat a reverie leaf every morning. ‘Only one leaf, only one little piece of our treasured leaf, in order to work as an antidote against the poisonous vapours in the air,’ said Scorpion. I had put my revolver away at his request, and he now sat, pointing a short finger at me. He would provide me with an evening meal, but getting water would be difficult. I suggested that I go down to the river every morning to bathe and at the same time bring back a jar of water. He didn’t approve. Why should I travel such a distance every day just to bathe? It was stupid, especially since I’d have to carry a jar all the way. Why not simply relax and eat reverie leaves instead? ‘There are good things right before your eyes, but you don’t know how to enjoy them,’ – I was positive he’d say something like this, but he didn’t. Furthermore – and this was what he really had in mind – he’d have to accompany me. I said I didn’t need his company. But he told me he was afraid I might try to run away, and that’s what he was most concerned about. Actually, if I planned on running away, I could do it whether he accompanied me or not, couldn’t I? I asked him that question straight out, and he actually closed his mouth for a full ten minutes or so. I was afraid I had scared him to death with my implied threat.

‘There’s really no need to accompany me. I’ve decided not to run away. I swear to you that I won’t run away,’ I said.

He shook his head lightly. ‘Taking oaths is something that only children do for fun.’

I got hot under the collar. Insult me to my face, would he! I grabbed the fine hair on his head. This was the first time I had used force on him, and he hadn’t expected it or he would have long since run far out of reach. His surprise at my reaction was probably genuine, for I later found out that what he said about taking oaths was true. He sacrificed some fine hair and perhaps a piece of scalp in order to break away from me.

From a safe distance he explained that in the history of Cat Country, taking oaths had once been a common practice. However, within the last five hundred years there had been too many instances of people taking solemn oaths and then not paying any attention to them. Hence, except for the hell of it, no one took oaths any more. Although trustworthiness was not a bad thing in itself, still, actual experience had proved that it was inconvenient. Therefore the government reform that abolished the taking of oaths had actually been a forward step in progress. Scorpion kept feeling his scalp as he explained all this to me, but he didn’t seem the least bit angry. Since no one ever honoured them anyway, he said that children now treated taking oaths as a kind of game. I later discovered that this was, in fact, the truth.

‘Whether or not you Cat People are trustworthy has nothing to do with me. My oaths are real oaths,’ I said very firmly. ‘I have absolutely no intention of running away. Whenever I decide to leave you, I shall first tell you to your face.’

‘You still don’t want me to accompany you when you go to bathe then?’

‘Do as you damn well please!’ I shouted, and that was that.

The supper wasn’t bad. In fact the Cat People were really quite good at the culinary arts. The only bad point was there were too many greenflies on the food. I pulled up some grass, wove dish covers, and ordered the man who brought my food to cover it. But he didn’t see things the way I did, and even thought my request a bit ludicrous. Because of Scorpion’s order, he didn’t dare speak to me, but he did shake his head gently in negation. I knew that since uncleanliness was one of the glories of the glorious history of Cat Country, there was no way I could reason with him. It was a shame, but I’d have to resort to force. Whenever a dish came uncovered, I’d tell Scorpion to explain things to the servant. This was a great mistake, for there finally came a day when no food came at all. The next day, when food was sent, not a single dish was covered, and everything was crawling with a layer of greenflies.

Actually, what had happened was this: because I’d told Scorpion to explain things to the servant, I had caused them both to lose their respect for me. For usually in such cases, it is the prerogative of the upper-class cat-men to strike the servant immediately. The servant considers this entirely proper and even expects it. Since I had not struck him immediately, he had lost all respect for me. But what was I to do? I didn’t want to go around hitting people, for to me the concept of personal integrity is inviolable. But if I didn’t hit him, not only would no one bring any food, but moreover I’d lose all my security on Mars. There was nothing I could do except sacrifice a piece – and I can honestly say it was a very small piece – of the servant’s scalp. It worked. The covers were no longer left off. This almost made me cry, for what kind of historical progress was it that made one man forget the personal integrity of another?

Going to the river to take a morning bath was the first pleasing experience I’d had since my arrival on Mars. I’d go from the reverie forest to the beach every morning before the sun came out; it was only a little over a mile away, just far enough to make me perspire a bit and loosen up my limbs. On the beach, I’d walk along in shallow water, enough to cover the tops of my feet, splashing about and waiting for the sun to come up. The scenery before sunrise had a certain tranquil beauty about it, as there was no mist in the fuscous sky as yet and some of the brighter stars were still visible.

Except for the gentle lapping of water on sand, all was silence. When the sun came up I would wade into the middle of the river. As I walked out, the water would gradually deepen, but it wasn’t until I’d gone over halfway across that it would cover my chest. Then I would have a most enjoyable swim. I would usually swim about for half an hour or so, stopping only when I felt hungry. Then I’d go back to the beach and dry myself in the sun. I would place my pistol, matchbox and tattered pants on a great rock. Naked in this great, grey universe, I would feel totally carefree, the freest man in all creation. As the sun grew gradually hotter, fog would slowly rise from the river and I would feel a bit stifled; Scorpion was right, even if he hadn’t said anything, I would still have sensed the poisonous miasma contained in the atmosphere. At this point it would probably be time to go back and eat that piece of reverie leaf.