'The Sames,' she said, 'disapprove of all sexual relations between human beings,and particularly between those of different sexes, as being demeaning anddangerous.'
'I can see where some might regard sexual relations between partners of oppositesexes as being demeaning for the woman,' I said, 'for in such relations she isoften handled, owned and put in her place, but, on the other hand, if shebelongs in her place, and it is her natural destiny to be owned and handled, itis not clear, ultimately, how this sort of thing can be demeaning for her.
Rather, it seems it would be fully appropriate. Indeed, treating her in anyother way, ultimately, would seem to be far more demeaning. But how can suchrelations be regarded as dangerous?'
'They are not regarded as being dangerous to health,' she said, 'but as beingdangerous to the Teaching.'
'What is the Teaching?' I asked.
'That men and women are the same,' she said. 'That is the central tenet of theWaniyanpi.'
'Do they believe it?' I asked.
'They pretend to,' she said. 'I do not know if they really believe it or not.'
'They believe men and women are the same,' I marveled. 'Except,' she smiled,'that women are regarded as somewhat superior.'
'Their beliefs then,' I said, 'seem not only to be obviously false but actuallyinconsistent.'
'Before the Teaching one must surrender one's reason,' she said. 'To scrutinizeit is a crime. To question it is blasphemy.'
'It lies, I suppose,' I said, 'at the roots of Waniyanpi society.'
'Yes,' she said. 'Without it Waniyanpi society would collapse.'
'So?' I said.
'They do not take the disintegration of their society as lightly as you do,' shesmiled. 'Too, you must understand the utility of such a view. It constitutes anexcellent philosophy for slaves.'
'I am not even sure of that,' I said.
'It, at least,' she said, 'gives men an excuse not to be men.'
'That seems true,' I granted her.
'It helps them to remain Waniyanpi,' she said. 'They are thus less likely toattract the attention, or excite the anger, of their red masters.'
'I understand,' I said. 'I think I also understand why, in such a society, thewomen are regarded as somewhat superior, as you put it.'
'It is only that they are implicitly regarded as superior,' be said.
'Explicitly, of course, all subscribe to the thesis of sameness.'
'But why are the women regarded, implicitly, as superior?' I asked.
'Because of the contempt felt for the men,' she said, 'who will not assert theirnatural rights. Also, if men refuse the mastery, someone must assume it.'
'Yes,' I said.
'There are always masters,' she said, 'whether one pretends it is not so, ornot.'
'In the hands of women,' I said, 'the mastery becomes an empty mockery.'
'Mockery has no choice but to assert itself,' she said, 'when reality isforesworn'
I was silent 'The Waniyanpi communities are sources of great amusement to the red masters,' she said.
I thought of what is sometimes spoken of by the red savages as the Memory.
'I understand,' I said.
The red savages doubtless found their vengeance a sweet and fitting one. Howalmost incomprehensibly cruel it was, how horrifying, how brilliant andinsidious.
'The Teachings of the Waniyanpi,' I said, 'were doubtless originally imposed onthem by their red masters.'
'Perhaps,' she said. 'I do not know. They may have been invented by theWaniyanpi themselves, to excuse to themselves their cowardice, their weaknessand impotence.'
'Perhaps,' I admitted.
'If one is not strong it is natural to make a virtue of weakness.'
'I suppose so,' I said. I then speculated that I had perhaps judged the redsavages too harshly. The Waniyanpi, it then seemed likely, may have betrayedthemselves, and their children. In time, of course, such teachings, absurdthough they might be, would come to be taken for granted. In time they wouldcome to be sanctioned by tradition, one of humanity's most prized substitutesfor thought.
'You, yourself,' I said, 'Do not seem much infected by the lunacy of theWaniyanpi.'
'No,' she said. 'I am not. I have had red masters. From them I have learned newtruths. Too, I was taken from the community at an early age.'
'How old were you?' I asked.
'I was taken from the enclosure when I was eight years old,' she said, 'takenhome by a Kaiila warrior as a pretty little white slave for his ten-year-oldson. I learned early to please and placate men.'
'What happened?' I asked.
'There is little more to tell,' she said. 'For seven years I was the slave of myyoung master. He was kind to me, and protected me, muchly, from the otherchildren. Although I was only his slave, I think he liked me. He did not put mein a leg stretcher until I was fifteen.' She was then silent. 'I have combed myhair,' she said.
'Come here,' I said, 'and, kneel here.' She rose from the water, it drippingfrom her body, and came and knelt on the grass, on the bank of the small stream,where I had indicated. I took the comb from her and laid it to the side. I thentook the brush and, kneeling behind her, began to brush out her hair. It is notunusual for Gorean masters to comb and groom slaves, or ornament thempersonally, much as they might any animal that they owned.
'We were gathering berries,' she said. 'Then I saw him, suddenly, almostangrily, cutting a stick, and notching it with his knife. Too, he had thongs. Iwas afraid, for I had seen other white slaves put in such devices. He turned toface me. His voice seemed loud, and full, and husky. 'Take off your dress,' besaid, 'and lie down, and throw your legs widely apart.' I began to cry, but Iobeyed him, and quickly, for I was his slave. I felt my ankles lashed tightly tothe stick, the stick behind them. I had not realized that he had grown sostrong. Then he rose to his feet and looked down at me. I was helpless. Helaughed with pleasure, a man's laugh, who sees a woman tied before him. I wascrying. He crouched down beside me. Then, suddenly, scarcely before I understoodwhat I was doing, I opened my arms to him, overcome suddenly by the stirrings ofmy womanhood. He embraced me. I began to sob again, but this time with joy. Thefirst time it was finished almost before we realized it. But he did not leaveme. For hours we remained among the tiny fruit, talking and kissing, andcaressing. Later, near dusk, he freed me, that I might gather berries for him,and feed them to him. Later I lay on my belly before him and kissed his feet.
That night we returned to the village. That others in the village mightunderstand what had happened, he did not permit me to ride behind him, on hiskaiila. He tied my bands behind my back and marched me at his stirrup, a thongon my neck tied to the pommel of his saddle. Two children had left the camp thatmorning. What returned to it that night were a master and his claimed whiteslave. I was very proud. I was very happy.'
'What then happened? I asked. I stopped brushing her hair.
'I loved my master,' she said, 'and I think that he, too, cared for me.'
'Yes?' I said.
'That it seemed he had grown fond of me brought ridicule on him from hiscomrades,' she said. 'To this sort of thing, as you might not know, red savages,in their tribal groups, are extremely sensitive. To allay these charges he, inhis anger, would berate me publicly, and even beat me in the presence of others.
At last, to put an end to the matter, and perhaps fearing these charges might betrue, be sold me to an older man, one from another village. After that I hadmany masters, and now I have yet another.'
I then began again to brush her hair. 'Was it the lad who gave you the namePimples?' I asked.
'Yes,' she said. 'I was given the name at puberty and, for some reason, it wasnever changed. Red masters commonly give such names to their white slaves,trivial names that seem fitting for slaves. My first year as the
