exultation she felt at understanding and her desire to experience it further.
Her sensitivity was such that she even knew why she was sensitive. Odeen had frequently remarked how well he understood something after a period of melting, even though he had not understood it at all before. There was something about the melted state that increased sensitivity incredibly; more was absorbed; more was used. It was because of the greater atomic density during melting, Odeen had said.
Even though Dua was not sure what “greater atomic density” meant, it came with melting and wasn’t this present situation rather like melting? Hadn’t Dua melted with rock?
When the triad melted, all the sensitivity went to Odeen’s benefit. The Rational absorbed it, gained understanding, and retained that understanding after separation. But now Dua was the only consciousness in the melt. It was herself and the rock. There was “greater atomic density” (surely?) with only herself to benefit.
(Was this why rock-rubbing was considered a perversion? Was this why Emotionals were warned off? Or was it just Dua because she was so rarefied? Or because she was a Left-Em?)
And then Dua stopped all speculation and just sensed—in fascination. She was only mechanically aware of Tritt returning, moving past her, passing in the direction back from which he had come. She was only mechanically aware—scarcely feeling the vaguest surprise—that Odeen, too, was coming up from the Hard-caverns. It was the Hard Ones she was sensing, only they, trying to make more out of her perceptions, trying to make the most out of them.
It was a long time before she detached and flowed out of the rock. And when that time came, she was not concerned overmuch as to whether she would be observed. She was confident enough of her sensing ability to know she wouldn’t be.
And she returned home deep in thought.
3b
Odeen had returned home to find Tritt waiting for him, but Dua still hadn’t returned. Tritt did not seem disturbed at that. Or at least he seemed disturbed, but not at that. His emotions were strong enough so that Odeen could sense them clearly, but he let them go without proving. It was Dua’s absence that made Odeen restless; to the extent that he found himself annoyed at Tritt’s presence simply because Tritt was not Dua.
In this he surprised himself. He could not deny to himself that it was Tritt who, of the two, was the dearer to him. Ideally, all members of the triad were one, and any member should treat the other two exactly on a par—both with each other and with him (her) self. Yet Odeen had never met a triad in which this was so; least of all among those who loudly proclaimed their triad to be ideal in this respect. One of the three was always a little left out, and generally knew it, too.
It was rarely the Emotional, though. They supported each other cross-triad to an extent that Rational and Parentals never did. The Rational had his teacher, the proverb went, and the Parental his children—but the Emotional had all the other Emotionals.
Emotionals compared notes and if one claimed neglect, or could be made to claim it, she was sent back with a thin patter of instructions to stand firm, to demand! And because melting depended so much on the Emotional and her attitude, she was usually pampered by both left and right.
But Dua was so non-Emotional an Emotional! She didn’t seem to care that Odeen and Tritt were so close, and she had no close friendships among the Emotionals to make her care. Of course that was it; she was so non-Emotional an Emotional.
Odeen loved having her so interested in his work; loved having her so concerned and so amazingly ready of comprehension; but that was an intellectual love. The deeper feeling went to steady, stupid Tritt, who knew his place so well and who could offer so little other than exactly what counted—the security of assured routine.
But now Odeen felt petulant. He said, “Have you heard from Dua, Tritt?”
And Tritt did not answer directly. He said, “I am busy. I will see you later. I have been doing things.”
“Where are the children? Have you been gone, too? There is a been-gone feel to you.”
A note of annoyance made itself plain in Tritt’s voice. “The children are well-trained. They know enough to place themselves in community-care. Really, Odeen, they are not babies.” But he did not deny the “been-gone” aura that he faintly exuded.