Executive (15 page)

Phist looked at me, but I gave him a take-cover signal. It was better to have this out, and better in company than alone. Hopie could be an imperious girl, and there was some justice in her complaint.

Roulette patted the couch beside her. “Come sit by me, Hopie, and we'll talk. There are things I can tell you.”

The girl joined her, perching uncomfortably. “If you know who knows—”

“Things that Hope Hubris believes but that are not necessarily true,” Roulette continued. “To understand him you have to understand the Navy. In the Jupiter Navy, men and women are not encouraged to love, but they are required to make love. That is, enlisted personnel are not permitted to marry, but they must perform sexually every week or be rebuked. Officers have greater privileges, but still, it is difficult to have children or a normal family in the civilian manner. To survive in the Navy they must conform, in this as in other things. A person can leave the Navy, but his way of life is likely to be set—his underlying values.”

“What has this to do with my—”

"Now, Hope is separated from his wife, just as he was separated from me when he left the Navy. This has nothing to do with love and everything to do with circumstance. When he left me, he had relations with other women, and I with another man. He would have stayed with me if he could, and I with him. It could not be. We each had to make our separate lives. Now he is apart from the wife that followed me, and that is not his choice, but he must make his separate life again. Of course, this means other women.

That is the Navy way. That is what those in the Service know is right, however the civilian sector may perceive it. You must not condemn him for being what he has been conditioned to be. I am sure Megan understands."

“She does,” Hopie said. “But I don't!”

“She loves him, as I do. As many women do. We love him for what he is, not what we would choose him to be. We know that he believes he has loved only two women in his life but that, in fact, he loves only one.”

Now Hopie was startled. “One?”

“It was no easier for me to accept than it is for you. I wanted him to love me, but he was only smitten with me because of my shape and my youth. His first romance was with one not much younger than I was then—”

“Helse. She was sixteen.”

“And his second romance with one older—”

“Megan. She's fifty-six.”

“So there really wasn't room for Juana or Emerald or me. We were passing fancies, relatively. Just as his present women are. Just as, to a lesser extent, his two major romances have been. You have to keep that perspective on him. For your sake, not his.”

Hopie was obviously shaken. “How can you say such things about him, with him right here listening?”

“Because they are true. Because you need to know. Because he will not tell you. You must not let your misconception damage your relationship with him. He is a man destined for women, and a worthy one despite or because of that.”

“My misconception!” Hopie snorted. “That's a neat way to put it!”

“Because you are of illegitimate birth,” Roulette agreed, smiling. “But your origin is no fault in you, just as Hope Hubris's nature is no fault in him. You are a good girl, and he is a good man.”

Hopie cocked her head. “Did he really rape you?”

“He really did, dear.”

“And you call him a good man?”

“Yes. He is a good man because he raped me. A bad man would not have had the courage or the ability.”

“I don't understand that at all!”

“He was the third to try it. I killed the first two. Hope Hubris was the first and the last to master me.”

Hopie glanced at Phist. “But—”

“She tolerates me,” he said. “For the sake of the situation. It is the Navy way—and the pirate way. I never mastered her.”

“You never even tried!” Roulette said, reproving him.

“But—” Hopie repeated. “To—to have sex with—”

“As I said, we do not always get to have sex with the one we love,” Roulette reminded her. “If I had my true choice, I would be in bed with Hope Hubris right now. But—”

“Why not?” Hopie said stoutly. “Everyone else is—”

“No. He has lost his wife. I have not lost my husband. Hope is free; I am not.”

“But from what you say, your husband would let you—”

“Of course, he would,” Roulette agreed. “But we honor the code that we live by. As does Hope. I am sure he has not touched any married woman or any unwilling one. You must not condemn him; your standards are civilian and do not apply.”

Hopie shook her head, neither positively nor negatively. “I'll try, Roulette. But you must tell me one thing.”

“One thing,” Roulette agreed.

“You said he only truly loves one woman. Who is that?”

“Your natural mother.”

“But I don't know who she is!”

“One day you shall know, dear. Until then you must keep an open mind.”

Now Hopie was close to tears. “But if I don't know who she is, how do I know she loves me?”

“She loves you,” I said.

“But she never cared enough to keep me!”

“She couldn't keep you,” I said. “She was single, and your father was married. That sort of thing is not understood in the better families.”

“But she doesn't have to be anonymous!”

“I think I understand,” Phist said. “If she were to reveal her part in this, it would destroy the reputation of your natural father. She must love him—”

“She does,” I said before I thought.

He turned away. I understood why but could not speak of it. He was the best of men.

Roulette glanced up at him. “Oh, Gerald, I'm sorry!”

Hopie looked from one to the other, perplexed. “What—”

“We deal on levels, and levels ,” Roulette said. “Let me share my song with you, Hopie.”

“Your—”

“After Hope mastered me I became part of his culture. I had to take a folk song, in the manner of all the personnel in his unit. That is how I became Rue, instead of Roulette. I want you to share my song, because I fear you will one day need it. It will do until you are given your own song.”

“But we don't have songs here!” Hopie protested."

“Then it is time to start. Hope is called Worry, after his song, 'Worried Man Blues.' Gerald is Old King Cole. Your Aunt Spirit is the Dear, after her song.”

“The Deer? An animal?”

“Dear, as in 'I know who I love, but the dear knows who I'll marry.' Make her sing it for you sometime.”

“I will,” Hopie said, brightening.

Then Roulette sang her song:

Come all ye fair and tender maids

Who flourish in your prime, prime;

Beware, beware, make your garden fair

Let no man steal your thyme, thyme...

“That's beautiful,” Hopie said when she finished. “But so sad.”

“Life can be sad—and beautiful,” Roulette said.

Hopie looked around. “But I'm interrupting,” she said, her realization coming somewhat belatedly. She stood, glancing at me. “Spanish.” She departed.

“Who is Amber?” Phist inquired.

I summarized the history of Amber.

Roulette pursed her lips. “You had better brush up on your song, Hope. That girl is mischief.”

“You haven't even seen her!” I protested.

“I don't need to. I can tell a missile by its description.” And she smiled in that private, sometimes annoying, way women had.

Phist resumed his presentation. “My preliminary study shows phenomenal waste, fraud, and inefficiency throughout the planet. I had supposed that this was largely a function of military purchases, but I see now that it is endemic. The entire framework requires overhauling.”

“I dread to ask the cost,” I said.

“Ideally there should be no net cost. The object is to make the apparatus function more efficiently, so that it serves the planet better than before and leads to further improvement. But initially—”

“We don't have initial cash,” I said.

“Then it will have to be done indirectly. I think the best approach is to nationalize key companies in key industries.”

“But they did that on Saturn,” I protested. “Everything is run by the state, and every season they have record crop failures and industrial inadequacies.”

“Because the fundamental Communist philosophy is flawed,” Phist said. “It provides inadequate motive for individual effort. When a man is not rewarded for his accomplishment, he loses incentive. When that extends to an entire planet, that planet is in serious trouble.”

“But if we nationalize, we'll be in the same trouble.”

“Not necessarily. We need to do it right. We have to take incentive into account and make our selected companies models for the others. To produce the products more efficiently at cheaper prices and higher quality and better reliability than the competition. Then the other companies will have to match our level or suffer erosion of their markets.”

“I hope you're right,” I said doubtfully.

“We'll start with the most troublesome companies in the key industrial sectors,” he said briskly. “One in metals, one in construction, one in transport, one in agriculture—”

“Agriculture?”

“That's an industry too,” he said. “And a vital one. Without food we'll starve.”

“Um, yes,” I agreed. “Now, I mean to reduce military hardware production, so—”

“You're sure that's wise?”

“I have a tacit deal with Admiral Khukov. There's an enormous amount of resources to be saved in defense, and for the first time we have a trustworthy opportunity to reduce Jupiter-Saturn tensions.”

He nodded. “Khukov's like you in certain respects. He's trustworthy and he handles people well. Very well. I'll dismantle the military industry, but I'll need cover.”

“Cover?”

“The powers-that-be aren't going to like this.”

“ I am the powers-that-be!” I said.

“You are the nominal power. You'll need Mondy to make that power actual. Meanwhile stand by me, and I'll do the job.”

“I'll tell Spirit,” I said.

He sighed. “I do miss the old days.”

“Don't we all, dear,” Roulette said, taking his arm. I was surprised by her manner; she had softened considerably in twenty years and was no longer the fiery pirate lass I had known. It was obvious that whatever she might say about her passion for me (which was perhaps more complimentary than actual), she had developed a genuine fondness for her husband. She had not been soft during our association.

She had been able to appreciate only violent passion; I had had to hit her to make her respond. Now I knew that she could respond also to gentleness—and Phist was a gentle man. He still loved Spirit, but surely Roulette gave him much to appreciate. To have a woman like that again—

“Don't we all,” I echoed.

“You're jealous of Gerald!” Roulette exclaimed, pleased.

“You never called me 'dear,' ” I grumbled.

“Oh, that makes it all worthwhile!” she chortled.

Even Phist had to smile. “You broke her in well, sir.”

“ Too well,” I agreed.

Smiling, they departed.

Several days later I had another opportunity to visit Amber. Her face brightened when she saw me, and again I experienced that déjà vu. It was as though I had seen her before, but I could not place where.

This time Hopie was there. “You know, Daddy, about what Roulette said...” she began somewhat diffidently.

“All true,” I murmured, embarrassed.

“It helps me to understand. I shouldn't have judged you.”

“You are my daughter,” I said. “Judge me as you will.”

“Just hug me, Daddy,” she said.

So I hugged her. I knew that her adjustment was not complete, but perhaps, in her deepest emotion, she was coming to terms with the new reality. I could not blame her for not liking a sundered family; at her age I had lost mine, except for my sister Spirit, and I knew the horror of that. I would have protected her from this experience if I could have.

Amber was watching, her face blank. Hopie glanced at her. “Oops, I didn't think,” she murmured.

“You'd better hug her, too, Daddy.”

Because the girl did not understand affection shown to one and not to another? Perhaps Hopie was right.

“Amber, I will hug you too,” I said in Spanish.

She came to me somewhat timidly, and I took her in my arms and squeezed her. She was somewhat stiff, unfamiliar with this, but I could tell by her bodily reaction that she liked it. She had probably been denied such simple, direct expressions of familiarity or affection.

“I'll have to give her hugging lessons,” Hopie said judiciously in English. Then, in Spanish: “Amber is improving in writing.”

“Good enough,” I said, turning the girl loose. “Did I explain to you, Hopie, how she changes languages?”

“No. She's been locked here in Spanish ever since you changed her. She doesn't understand English anymore.”

Which was odd, now that I considered it. She had been able to tell me what she had heard in English, yet could no longer understand it directly. “Amber, may we experiment with you?” I asked.

She shrugged, not objecting.

“Look at the gem,” I said. “Look deep at the termite; go into your trance.”

She obeyed. Hopie watched, fascinated.

“English,” I said.

Amber did not react. “Do you understand me now?” I asked in Spanish.

She gazed at me, uncomprehending.

“Do you understand me now?” I repeated in English.

She nodded affirmatively.

“But you cannot speak in English?”

She spread her hands, acquiescing.

“She's back the way she was before!” Hopie exclaimed, also in English.

“It is the gem that does it,” I said. “It puts her in a trance, and then the spoken name of the language puts her into that mode. But she only actually speaks Spanish.”

“Does it end there?” Hopie asked.

“Why, I hadn't thought—” I said, surprised.

“Amber, look at the gem again,” Hopie said.

The girl did. “ Le français,” Hopie said. She had been studying French in school. This was not a language I knew, other than the merest smattering of words.

There was no reaction from Amber. “Remember, she doesn't speak,” I said in English. “But we can verify it.” I faced the girl. “Do you understand me now?”