him a match and broke off my questioning on his sleeping habits; for in a society where people emphasise freedom a great deal, everyone must have his own secrets.
I asked him if he had a family. He nodded his head. ‘After we’ve harvested the reverie leaves, you can go home with me and see for yourself,’ he said.
I wondered what tasks he had in mind for me back at his home. ‘Where is your home?’ I asked.
‘In the capital where the emperor resides. There are lots of foreigners there. You’ll be able to see your own friends.’
‘I am from Earth. I don’t know any Martians.’
‘Well, you’re a foreigner anyway, and all foreigners are friends.’
There was no point in explaining things to him any further. I just hoped that we’d get the reverie leaf harvest in quickly so that I could go to the capital and have a look around.
A LAND OF PEEPING TOMS
M Y RELATIONSHIP with Scorpion, as I perceived it, could never be one of friendship. That’s the way I saw it at any rate. Perhaps he was sincere in wanting to be my friend, but I simply couldn’t bring myself to like him. For even if he was sincere, then – and this was true of all the Cat People – even his sincerity would be totally self-centred. For it seemed that the main reason Scorpion made friends was in order to use people for his own benefit. During the past three or four months I had not for a single day put out of my mind the desire to go and bury the corpse of my old friend. But Scorpion availed himself of every means he could devise to prevent me from doing so. This in itself was an indication of his selfishness; it also showed that the concept of friendship was totally foreign to the minds of the Cat People. I say he was selfish because to him it seemed the only thing that I’d come to Mars for was to guard the reverie trees. I say the concept of friendship was foreign to him because he forever reminded me that my friend was ‘already dead, so what’s the point in going to him?’
He refused to give me directions for getting back to the place where my friend’s body was, and he watched over me like a hawk to make sure I didn’t try to find the way myself. Actually if I took my time (all I’d have to do would be to follow the bank of that river), I’d certainly be able to find that area again. But every time that I got more than half a mile out of the forest, Scorpion would be sure to pop up out of nowhere and block my path. He’d stop me, but he wouldn’t try to take me back by physical force. Instead, he’d tell me about a number of stories in which he figured as the victim, and make me feel sorry for him, as though he were an old widow relating her tale of woe. Snivelling and wiping the tears from his eyes, he’d go on and on; and before I knew it, he’d make me forget my own troubles completely. Behind my back, no doubt, he pursed his lips and sniggered at me for being such a simpleton; but even realising this, I still wasn’t able to harden my heart against him. In fact, I almost began to admire him!
I didn’t entirely believe all that he told me and decided to check things out for myself. But he’d already guarded against that, for he never allowed any of the other inhabitants of the reverie forest to get close to me. I saw them only from a distance, for whenever I dashed over in their direction, they would immediately disappear. This certainly must have been in compliance with orders issued by Scorpion.
I decided not to eat any more of the reverie leaves. Scorpion’s exhortations against such a course were exceedingly smooth, sincere and devious. ‘You can’t stop eating them as you’ll get thirsty, and water is scarce,’ he said. ‘Moreover, if you stop eating them, you’ll have to bathe – and what a bother that would be! Besides, other foods are too expensive, and not good to eat anyway. And the atmosphere contains a slow-acting poison that the reverie leaves protect against; you will surely die if you stop
I asked him if he had a family. He nodded his head. ‘After we’ve harvested the reverie leaves, you can go home with me and see for yourself,’ he said.
I wondered what tasks he had in mind for me back at his home. ‘Where is your home?’ I asked.
‘In the capital where the emperor resides. There are lots of foreigners there. You’ll be able to see your own friends.’
‘I am from Earth. I don’t know any Martians.’
‘Well, you’re a foreigner anyway, and all foreigners are friends.’
There was no point in explaining things to him any further. I just hoped that we’d get the reverie leaf harvest in quickly so that I could go to the capital and have a look around.
A LAND OF PEEPING TOMS
M Y RELATIONSHIP with Scorpion, as I perceived it, could never be one of friendship. That’s the way I saw it at any rate. Perhaps he was sincere in wanting to be my friend, but I simply couldn’t bring myself to like him. For even if he was sincere, then – and this was true of all the Cat People – even his sincerity would be totally self-centred. For it seemed that the main reason Scorpion made friends was in order to use people for his own benefit. During the past three or four months I had not for a single day put out of my mind the desire to go and bury the corpse of my old friend. But Scorpion availed himself of every means he could devise to prevent me from doing so. This in itself was an indication of his selfishness; it also showed that the concept of friendship was totally foreign to the minds of the Cat People. I say he was selfish because to him it seemed the only thing that I’d come to Mars for was to guard the reverie trees. I say the concept of friendship was foreign to him because he forever reminded me that my friend was ‘already dead, so what’s the point in going to him?’
He refused to give me directions for getting back to the place where my friend’s body was, and he watched over me like a hawk to make sure I didn’t try to find the way myself. Actually if I took my time (all I’d have to do would be to follow the bank of that river), I’d certainly be able to find that area again. But every time that I got more than half a mile out of the forest, Scorpion would be sure to pop up out of nowhere and block my path. He’d stop me, but he wouldn’t try to take me back by physical force. Instead, he’d tell me about a number of stories in which he figured as the victim, and make me feel sorry for him, as though he were an old widow relating her tale of woe. Snivelling and wiping the tears from his eyes, he’d go on and on; and before I knew it, he’d make me forget my own troubles completely. Behind my back, no doubt, he pursed his lips and sniggered at me for being such a simpleton; but even realising this, I still wasn’t able to harden my heart against him. In fact, I almost began to admire him!
I didn’t entirely believe all that he told me and decided to check things out for myself. But he’d already guarded against that, for he never allowed any of the other inhabitants of the reverie forest to get close to me. I saw them only from a distance, for whenever I dashed over in their direction, they would immediately disappear. This certainly must have been in compliance with orders issued by Scorpion.
I decided not to eat any more of the reverie leaves. Scorpion’s exhortations against such a course were exceedingly smooth, sincere and devious. ‘You can’t stop eating them as you’ll get thirsty, and water is scarce,’ he said. ‘Moreover, if you stop eating them, you’ll have to bathe – and what a bother that would be! Besides, other foods are too expensive, and not good to eat anyway. And the atmosphere contains a slow-acting poison that the reverie leaves protect against; you will surely die if you stop
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