people taking solemn oaths and then not paying any attention to them. Hence, except for the hell of it, no one took oaths any more. Although trustworthiness was not a bad thing in itself, still, actual experience had proved that it was inconvenient. Therefore the government reform that abolished the taking of oaths had actually been a forward step in progress. Scorpion kept feeling his scalp as he explained all this to me, but he didn’t seem the least bit angry. Since no one ever honoured them anyway, he said that children now treated taking oaths as a kind of game. I later discovered that this was, in fact, the truth.
‘Whether or not you Cat People are trustworthy has nothing to do with me. My oaths are real oaths,’ I said very firmly. ‘I have absolutely no intention of running away. Whenever I decide to leave you, I shall first tell you to your face.’
‘You still don’t want me to accompany you when you go to bathe then?’
‘Do as you damn well please!’ I shouted, and that was that.
The supper wasn’t bad. In fact the Cat People were really quite good at the culinary arts. The only bad point was there were too many greenflies on the food. I pulled up some grass, wove dish covers, and ordered the man who brought my food to cover it. But he didn’t see things the way I did, and even thought my request a bit ludicrous. Because of Scorpion’s order, he didn’t dare speak to me, but he did shake his head gently in negation. I knew that since uncleanliness was one of the glories of the glorious history of Cat Country, there was no way I could reason with him. It was a shame, but I’d have to resort to force. Whenever a dish came uncovered, I’d tell Scorpion to explain things to the servant. This was a great mistake, for there finally came a day when no food came at all. The next day, when food was sent, not a single dish was covered, and everything was crawling with a layer of greenflies.
Actually, what had happened was this: because I’d told Scorpion to explain things to the servant, I had caused them both to lose their respect for me. For usually in such cases, it is the prerogative of the upper-class cat-men to strike the servant immediately. The servant considers this entirely proper and even expects it. Since I had not struck him immediately, he had lost all respect for me. But what was I to do? I didn’t want to go around hitting people, for to me the concept of personal integrity is inviolable. But if I didn’t hit him, not only would no one bring any food, but moreover I’d lose all my security on Mars. There was nothing I could do except sacrifice a piece – and I can honestly say it was a very small piece – of the servant’s scalp. It worked. The covers were no longer left off. This almost made me cry, for what kind of historical progress was it that made one man forget the personal integrity of another?
Going to the river to take a morning bath was the first pleasing experience I’d had since my arrival on Mars. I’d go from the reverie forest to the beach every morning before the sun came out; it was only a little over a mile away, just far enough to make me perspire a bit and loosen up my limbs. On the beach, I’d walk along in shallow water, enough to cover the tops of my feet, splashing about and waiting for the sun to come up. The scenery before sunrise had a certain tranquil beauty about it, as there was no mist in the fuscous sky as yet and some of the brighter stars were still visible.
Except for the gentle lapping of water on sand, all was silence. When the sun came up I would wade into the middle of the river. As I walked out, the water would gradually deepen, but it wasn’t until I’d gone over halfway across that it would cover my chest. Then I would have a most enjoyable swim. I would usually swim about for half an hour or so, stopping only when I felt hungry. Then I’d go back to the beach and dry myself in the sun. I would place my pistol, matchbox and tattered
‘Whether or not you Cat People are trustworthy has nothing to do with me. My oaths are real oaths,’ I said very firmly. ‘I have absolutely no intention of running away. Whenever I decide to leave you, I shall first tell you to your face.’
‘You still don’t want me to accompany you when you go to bathe then?’
‘Do as you damn well please!’ I shouted, and that was that.
The supper wasn’t bad. In fact the Cat People were really quite good at the culinary arts. The only bad point was there were too many greenflies on the food. I pulled up some grass, wove dish covers, and ordered the man who brought my food to cover it. But he didn’t see things the way I did, and even thought my request a bit ludicrous. Because of Scorpion’s order, he didn’t dare speak to me, but he did shake his head gently in negation. I knew that since uncleanliness was one of the glories of the glorious history of Cat Country, there was no way I could reason with him. It was a shame, but I’d have to resort to force. Whenever a dish came uncovered, I’d tell Scorpion to explain things to the servant. This was a great mistake, for there finally came a day when no food came at all. The next day, when food was sent, not a single dish was covered, and everything was crawling with a layer of greenflies.
Actually, what had happened was this: because I’d told Scorpion to explain things to the servant, I had caused them both to lose their respect for me. For usually in such cases, it is the prerogative of the upper-class cat-men to strike the servant immediately. The servant considers this entirely proper and even expects it. Since I had not struck him immediately, he had lost all respect for me. But what was I to do? I didn’t want to go around hitting people, for to me the concept of personal integrity is inviolable. But if I didn’t hit him, not only would no one bring any food, but moreover I’d lose all my security on Mars. There was nothing I could do except sacrifice a piece – and I can honestly say it was a very small piece – of the servant’s scalp. It worked. The covers were no longer left off. This almost made me cry, for what kind of historical progress was it that made one man forget the personal integrity of another?
Going to the river to take a morning bath was the first pleasing experience I’d had since my arrival on Mars. I’d go from the reverie forest to the beach every morning before the sun came out; it was only a little over a mile away, just far enough to make me perspire a bit and loosen up my limbs. On the beach, I’d walk along in shallow water, enough to cover the tops of my feet, splashing about and waiting for the sun to come up. The scenery before sunrise had a certain tranquil beauty about it, as there was no mist in the fuscous sky as yet and some of the brighter stars were still visible.
Except for the gentle lapping of water on sand, all was silence. When the sun came up I would wade into the middle of the river. As I walked out, the water would gradually deepen, but it wasn’t until I’d gone over halfway across that it would cover my chest. Then I would have a most enjoyable swim. I would usually swim about for half an hour or so, stopping only when I felt hungry. Then I’d go back to the beach and dry myself in the sun. I would place my pistol, matchbox and tattered
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