Life on other planets -- Fiction; Psychological fiction; Quests (Expeditions) -- Fiction; Science fiction
The road descended by an easy gradient, and was for a long distance
comparatively smooth. The freezing point seemed higher than on Earth,
for the few inches of snow through which they trudged felt almost warm
to their naked feet. Maskull’s soles were by now like tough hides. The
moonlit snow was green and dazzling. Their slanting, abbreviated shadows
were sharply defined, and red-black in colour. Maskull, who walked on
Sullenbode’s right hand, looked constantly to the left, toward the
galaxy of glorious distant peaks.
“You cannot belong to this world,” said the woman. “Men of your stamp
are not to be looked for here.”
“No, I have come here from Earth.”
“Is that larger than our world?”
“Smaller, I think. Small, and overcrowded with men and women. With all
those people, confusion would result but for orderly laws, and therefore
the laws are of iron. As adventure would be impossible without
encroaching on these laws, there is no longer any spirit of adventure
among the Earthmen. Everything is safe, vulgar, and completed.”
“Do men hate women there, and women men?”
“No, the meeting of the sexes is sweet, though shameful. So poignant is
the sweetness that the accompanying shame is ignored, with open eyes.
There is no hatred, or only among a few eccentric persons.”
“That shame surely must be the rudiment of our Lichstorm passion. But
now say—why did you come here?”
“To meet with new experiences, perhaps. The old ones no longer
interested me.”
“How long have you been in this world?”
“This is the end of my fourth day.”
“Then tell me what you have seen and done during those four days. You
cannot have been inactive.”
“Great misfortunes have happened to me.”
He proceeded briefly to relate everything that had taken place from the
moment of his first awakening in the scarlet desert. Sullenbode
listened, with half-closed eyes, nodding her head from time to time.
Only twice did she interrupt him. After his description of Tydomin’s
death, she said, speaking in a low voice—“None of us women ought by
right of nature to fall short of Tydomin in sacrifice. For that one act
of hers, I almost love her, although she brought evil to your door.”
Again, speaking of Gleameil, she remarked, “That grand-souled girl I
admire the most of all. She listened to her inner voice, and to nothing
else besides. Which of us others is strong enough for that?”
When his tale was quite over, Sullenbode said, “Does it not strike you,
Maskull, that these women you have met have been far nobler than the
men?”
“I recognise that. We men often sacrifice ourselves, but only for a
substantial cause. For you women almost any cause will serve. You love
the sacrifice for its own sake, and that is because you are naturally
noble.”
Turning her head a little, she threw him a smile so proud, yet so sweet,
that he was struck into silence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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