‘My poor Chantry just collapsed,’ Honeypeach said at frequent intervals, ‘from overwork, poor baby.’
From drugs, Rheme thought. Drugs and stimulants – which any man needed if he were to get involved with Honeypeach – and too many demands on a nervous system that was, after all, merely biological and normal, not made of transistors and metal parts. Honeypeach simply wasn’t interested in normal people or normal biology or normal sex. Honeypeach liked whips and drugs and various electronic devices. Honeypeach liked sex in threes and fours and dozens. Honeypeach liked to watch while others suffered and gyrated, often people Honeypeach said she liked a lot coupled with people she didn’t like at all. Rheme knew the signs. Honeypeach had a certain look in her eye when she was choosing who was next, and Maybelle was in line for forced participation. That alone would have told him that the Governor and the Governor’s lady were counting the days until departure. Honeypeach would not have focused on Maybelle unless it no longer made any difference what she did or was seen to do.
The honorable Wuyllum had shown no signs of being either aware of this or upset by it. His daughter by his first wife was evidently not seen as a possession of particular value. Rheme Gentry was trying to change that.
‘Has the Governor considered what he might be interested in doing after retirement?’ he asked in his blandest voice.
‘Why should I have thought of any such thing?’ Wuyllum growled suspiciously.
‘An opportunity on Serendipity has come to my attention,’ Rheme answered in his most syrupy voice. ‘One which the Governor might be interested in. A very wealthy family agglomeration, which is looking for an alliance of mutual profit, and which has a marriageable son …’
‘Son?’ Wuyllum was being very slow on the load, and Rheme cursed to himself while his face went on being disinterested. ‘About Maybelle’s age,’ he said. ‘May one speak frankly?’
Wuyllum stared at him for a moment or two before grunting permission. Rheme felt sweat start along the back of his neck and under his arms.
‘It cannot escape one’s attention that your daughter and her stepmother are not sympathetic,’ he said, still in that disinterested tone that he had rehearsed over and over again at the end of the garden, beyond the ears. ‘It’s perfectly understandable, too, your wife being so very young and lovely. At your daughter’s current age and level of social experience, however, she is quite marriageable. One could recommend her to many very wealthy families seeking alliances of various kinds, many of which would be to the Governor’s advantage. Also, such a marriage would remove a present source of annoyance to the Governor’s lady.’
Wuyllum grunted again, a faint light of understanding leaking outward from his face. ‘I might consider that,’ he said at last.
‘If the Governor considers such a possibility in his own best interest, the young lady could be sent on to Serendipity in order that she become fully acquainted with the social set there. It is my understanding she left Serendipity while still too young to take part fully in social affairs.’
‘She was twenty-two,’ the Governor snorted. ‘No more sex smell to her than to a mule.’
Rheme affected not to have heard. ‘Since the families of which we are speaking are interested in reproduction, they prefer women who are … somewhat naive and unspoiled. One might say “conservatively reared.” The Governor’s daughter gives that impression … now.’
A light dawned. ‘Need to keep her that way, do we? That’s what you’re sayin’, isn’t it? Got to keep her away from Honeypeach’s party fun, heh?’ The Governor’s face twisted into a nasty sneer. ‘And I suppose you’d want to go along to ‘Dipity. Kind of a chaperon, heh?’
‘I’d prefer not, Sir, if you don’t mind.’ Rheme allowed a brief expression of distaste to cross his face, wondering if he were overdoing it. Wuyllum was no fool. Obviously not. He was as thick-skinned and slow to move as some cold-blooded primordial reptile, but where his own self-interest was concerned, he had an absolute genius for understanding the implications of everything around him. ‘We’re very busy here and I really would prefer not.’ Let Wuyllum think that Rheme had tired of the girl’s attentions. Let him think whatever he damned well liked, but let Rheme get Maybelle off Jubal and away from Honeypeach Thonks. ‘I can find the name of some appropriate woman on Serendipity….’
The Governor grunted again, suspicion allayed, then turned his attention to other items of business.
That evening voices were raised in the private quarters of his excellency. Rheme, who was huddled with Maybelle in the far corner of the garden repeating the message that he intended Maybelle to carry with her to Serendipity, heard the voices and rejoiced.
‘What’ve you been getting up to with Maybelle, heh?’ the Governor asked his wife, his voice coming clearly through the drawn curtains.
‘I don’t even like Mayzy,’ his wife confided. ‘She spent too much time with that vanilla milk woman to be interesting.’
‘If you’re talkin’ about my first wife, woman, you’d better have the sense to know who she was. She was the daughter of the Lifetime Ambassador to Gerens, and she came from one of the wealthiest families on Heron’s World.’
‘And they slashed her off with nothing when she married you, Wuyllum, don’t forget that.’
‘Doesn’t matter. Maybelle was reared by her mama. She’s prime stuff, according to people who know.’
‘Prime what? Prime settler’s brush gruel? She’s nothing, Wully. Milky, like her mama. Nothing at all. I don’t even know why Justin wants to meet her again.’
‘Now you listen to me, Honeypeach. I’m telling you once, and only once. I’m sendin’ Maybelle back to Serendipity now. Settin’ her up back there with a little place of her own, heh? Hire some snooty woman to be chaperone, get her into society. And between now and the time she leaves, and after we get there, I don’t want her touched, you understand? Heh?’
There
