To be sure, love was regarded as appropriate in certain contexts, as for the parties, for the state, and such things, and also for all life forms, of course, regardless of their placement on various phylogenetic scales. It was acceptable for a man to declare his love publicly for coelenterates, for example, and some did, but not for women. Brenner wondered what love might be, and if, indeed, there were such a thing. It must be some sort of emotion, he thought, or something like that, only perhaps much more complex. He did not doubt that there was hate. He had seen a great deal of that, even in his sheltered life. If there were hate, it seemed likely then, though not necessary, of course, that there might be such a thing as love. But surely the whole notion is unintelligible, thought Brenner. Yet she had said she loved him. He had heard, of course, that slaves often loved their masters, even when their masters had forbidden it. That was of interest to Brenner. Surely she had seemed, in many ways, slavelike, so passionate, so beautiful, so helpless, so desirous to please. Perhaps then, as she was such a woman, such a weak, low, helpless, worthless thing, she did love him. Perhaps she was indeed a slave, and that it was precisely in virtue of this that she was capable of love. But too, he reminded himself, she had said she hated him.
“Are you all right?” asked Rodriguez, again.
“Yes,” said Brenner, angrily.
Some of the Pons looked up at him, through the holes in the hoods, blinking. Their eyes seemed large, and soft.
“This is as far as we are going,” said Rodriguez, “without seeing whom we are with.”
“What do you mean?” asked Brenner.
One of the Pons suddenly squeaked, seized by the arm by Rodriguez.
“Stop!” said Brenner, horrified.
But Rodriguez had his free hand on the hood covering the creature’s head. It squirmed. It tried to hold the hood over its features. “Grab that one!” said Rodriguez, gesturing with his head to another Pon.
“No!” said Brenner. “Stop!”
“He’s a strong little bastard,” said Rodriguez.
“Stop!” said Brenner.
Then Rodriguez had jerked away the hood.
“It may bite!” said Brenner.
But the Pon did not bite. Rodriguez held it now, firmly, by the back of the neck and, with his free hand, forced open its mouth.
“Must you do that?” asked Brenner.
“See?” asked Rodriguez, grinning.
“Yes,” said Brenner.
“No fangs,” smiled Rodriguez.
“It may be poisonous,” said Brenner.
“I doubt it,” said Rodriguez.
The dendition of the Pon was regular, small, and fine.
The other Pons had scurried back, away from Rodriguez and the sled. They stood about, a few feet back.
“Do not be afraid,” said Brenner, soothingly.
Rodriguez released the Pon. Interestingly, it did not run away. It stood near him, looking up at him.
“Do you think you’re going to buy it, or sell it, or something?” asked Brenner.
Rodriguez laughed.
Slavers sometimes force open the mouths of captured free women, as a portion of their assessment. The nature of a female’s dentition can be informative, providing as it does an index to such things as her general health and condition, her accustomed diet, her age, and, even, in some cases, her former socioeconomic class. Sometimes the mouths of women in markets are also forced open but this is usually merely to remind them that they are slaves, as they, subject to the submission consequent upon their condition, may not only not attempt to prevent, but must, upon any appropriate indication, comply with, and abet, all such inquiries, inspections, and examinations.
“You should not have done that,” said Brenner. “You might frighten them. You might make it difficult to win their confidence. You might contaminate the data. You might even be violating some kind of taboo.”
“No,” said Rodriguez. “I know what I am doing. These little bastards have shown up often enough at Company Station without hoods. I checked that with the operator at the gates.”
“The hoods, then, are for our benefit,” said Brenner.
“Apparently,” said Rodriguez.
“Why would they conceal their faces from us?” asked Brenner.
“I’m not sure,” said Rodriguez.
“If they had anything to hide, they surely would not have invited us in,” said Brenner.
“I would think not,” said Rodriguez.
“They may be afraid of us,” said Brenner.
“Possibly,” said Rodriguez.
“Perhaps they are pathologically shy,” said Brenner.
“Perhaps,” said Rodriguez.
“Perhaps it is a custom to welcome guests while hooded?” said Brenner.
“Perhaps,” said Rodriguez.
“Perhaps it is really intended to have its full effect later, in rendering familiar, or unsuspect, a concealment for their females,” said Brenner.
“That is possible,” said Rodriguez. “By hooding all, they