thinking,” a Hard One had said when Odeen had discussed the problem with him and that left Odeen dissatisfied. In what way could thinking be “too much”?
Tritt was young when they first met, of course. He was still so childish as to be uncertain in his blockishness so that his reaction to the meeting was embarrassingly clear. He grew almost translucent along his edges.
Odeen said, hesitantly, “I haven’t seen you before, have I, right-fellow?”
Tritt said, “I have never been here. I have been brought here.”
They both knew exactly what had happened to them. The meeting had been arranged because someone (some Parental, Odeen had thought at the time, but later he knew it was some Hard One) thought they would suit each other, and the thought was correct.
There was no intellectual rapport between the two, of course. How could there be when Odeen wanted to learn with an intensity that superseded anything but the existence of the triad itself, and Tritt lacked the very concept of learning? What Tritt had to know, he knew beyond either learning or unlearning.
Odeen, out of the excitement of finding out about the world and its Sun; about the history and mechanism of life; about all the abouts in the Universe; sometimes (in those early days together) found himself spilling over to Tritt.
Tritt listened placidly, clearly understanding nothing, but content to be listening; while Odeen, transmitting nothing, was as clearly content to be lecturing.
It was Tritt who made the first move, driven by his special needs. Odeen was chattering about what he had learned that day after the brief midday meal. (Their thicker substance absorbed food so rapidly, they were satisfied with a simple walk in the Sun, while Emotionals basked for hours at a time, curling and thinning as though deliberately to lengthen the task.)
Odeen, who always ignored the Emotionals, was quite happy to be talking. Tritt who stared wordlessly at them, day after day, was now visibly restless.
Abruptly, he came close to Odeen, formed an appendage so hastily as to clash most disagreeably on the other’s form-sense. He placed it upon a portion of Odeen’s upper ovoid where a slight shimmer was allowing a welcome draft of warm air as dessert. Tritt’s appendage thinned with a visible effort and sank into the superfices of Odeen’s skin before the latter darted away, horribly embarrassed.
Odeen had done such things as a baby, of course, but never since his adolescence. “Don’t do that, Tritt,” he said sharply.
Tritt’s appendage remained out, groping a little. “I want to.”
Odeen held himself as compactly as he could, striving to harden the surface to bar entry. “I don’t want to.”
“Why not?” said Tritt, urgently. “There’s nothing wrong.”
Odeen said the first thing that came into his mind. “It hurt.” (It didn’t really. Not physically. But the Hard Ones always avoided the touch of the Soft Ones. A careless interpenetration hurt them, but they were constructed differently from Soft Ones, completely differently.)
Tritt was not fooled by that. His instinct could not possibly mislead him in this respect. He said, “It didn’t hurt.”
“Well, it isn’t right this way. We need an Emotional.”
And Tritt could only say, stubbornly, “I want to, anyway.”
It was bound to continue happening, and Odeen was bound to give in. He always did; it was something that was sure to happen even to the most self-conscious Rational. As the old saying had it: Everyone either admitted doing it or lied about it.
Tritt was at him at each meeting after that; if not with an appendage, then rim to rim. And finally Odeen, seduced by the pleasure of it, began to help and tried to shine. He was better at that than Tritt was. Poor Tritt, infinitely more eager, huffed and strained, and could achieve only the barest shimmer here and there, patchily and raggedly.
Odeen, however, could turn translucent all over his surface, and fought down his embarrassment in order to let himself flow against Tritt. There was skin-deep penetration and Odeen could feel the pulsing of Tritt’s hard surface under the skin. There was enjoyment, riddled with guilt.
Tritt, as often as not, was tired and vaguely angry when it was all over.
Odeen said, “Now, Tritt, I’ve told you we need an Emotional to do this properly. You can’t be angry at something that just is.”
And Tritt said, “Let’s get an Emotional.”
Let’s get an Emotional! Tritt’s simple drives never led him to anything but direct action. Odeen was not sure he could explain the complexities of life to the other. “It’s not