goods, Archer. I could never see you that way.”
“I was another man’s whore!” she snapped.
“You were raped.”
“But I didn’t stop him!”
“You slept with him willingly?”
“I…I must have.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean you must have?”
Archer’s pain was evident and Mathew could see that it was excruciating.
“I kept waking up in bed with him every morning. I must have blocked out what I did during the night. I must be hiding from my own willingness to sleep with him. It’s the only explanation.”
“Really?” Mathew said. “You don’t see any other possibilities?”
“What other explanation could there be!” she snapped again.
“You had wine with dinner,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.
“Um, yes.”
“Every night you had wine, and it was a Martian vintage.”
“Always. Helson insisted.”
“You were drugged.”
She stared at him blankly, his words never reaching her through the filters of her own condemnation.
“You were given a Martian wine from the Carllotti vineyards in the Terra Maridani, region along the equator. The substance is an aphrodisiac and a hallucinogen. You become immediately sexually aroused and lose total volitional control of your actions. It also operates as an amnesiac, blocking all conscious memory of your actions for a period of about nine hours. It is an outlawed substance, totally illegal, and the only access is through illegal channels, and then only if you are a Noble. To my knowledge, my dear brother has the only supply on Terra. Mostly you find it in the pleasure shops on the outer colonies. Archer, you are absolutely without blame for what happened, no matter what Helson may have told you.”
Archer’s eyes blinked, almost fluttering as she tried to process the information. “Are you sure, Mathew? Is that true?”
“Comm,” Mathew said.
“Yes, My Lord?” answered a disembodied voice.
“Display all information on Carllotti wine.”
A holo appeared in mid air between them, showing a scrolling mass of information. It went on for several minutes.
“Comm, display a summary only.”
The image disappeared and a single document appeared. Archer read it several times and leaned back in her chair, slump shouldered and suddenly exhausted.
“Done,’ said Mathew, and the image disappeared.
“You’ve been molested, Archer. You’ve been abused and you’ve been sexually assaulted, but to say you’re damaged goods is wrong. You have done nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I hate that man,” she whispered quietly. There was fierceness in her voice that actually frightened Mathew. If Helson had been present there was no doubt that she would try to kill him on the spot.
“You have reason to hate him,” he said almost in a whisper.
Archer drew her feet up under her, folding her legs to the left. Mathew reached out and touched her hand but she withdrew it, folding her arms and slipping her hands under her armpits. She stared at the floor once again on the verge of tears. Shamreel moved a few inches away from her, as if sensing her need for solitude, but continued to make small whimpering noises from time to time, looking up at her attentively.
Mathew sat opposite her, watching her in silence, careful to not disturb her yet very aware of her mood. In moments, she fell asleep, and he thought of her going unconscious to try to process what she had learned. He decided that it must be traumatic beyond belief to discover the truth of her captivity. He was grateful, not only for her beginning to heal but also for the time to work on the reprogramming of the bots that would be needed to reproduce the storage bay. The more he could get done before he arrived, the faster the bots could begin construction, and the more time he would have to spend with Archer. His heart ached for her, and his mind seethed with anger for what his brother had done. For the first time in his life he actually hated Helson, and the vehemence of it surprised him, made him uncomfortable. In a way, he was ashamed of it, no matter how much it was deserved. But that was a subject for another day. For the moment, he had his work to occupy him.
Report to the Council
As I have discussed before, these human creatures seem trapped between their natural understanding of the importance of their unity and connectedness on the one hand and their fear of recognizing that they are so connected on the other. They appear trapped in a continuous and dilemma of attempting to understand their dual nature, unable to recognize or reconcile that neither of these two view, what they call Love and Fear, are neither their true nature. They continue to separate themselves from each other and to protect themselves from each other’s understanding, as if the very fact that another being would understand them is in itself a threat, rendering themselves vulnerable if not totally defenseless in the face of imagined threats.
As it turns out, this dichotomy of beliefs permeates every aspect of their society, their culture and their individual psychology. In pair bonding rituals, they see themselves in a contest to determine who will dominate, first among the males in finding a suitable mate and within the pair bond itself, to insure that they are not dominated. In their productive processes by which they provide themselves with all those necessities necessary to survive and thrive they fail to understand that the best way to satisfy their own needs and even the majority of their irrational desires is through insuring the success of everyone else in the process. They feel to see that what they call ‘the pie’, the total stock of available wealth, grows and that there is no need to try to secure someone else’s share of that pie. They constantly maneuver to secure a large part of the wealth by taking it from each other rather than simply creating more for everyone. In their cultural interactions, particularly those involving larger group structures which they refer to as ‘nations’ or ‘planetary units’, they continue to protect and dominate as part of the philosophy that seems to be part and parcel with their structures.
I am aware that none of this bodes well for their ultimate survival yet my observations should be tempered with recognition of their amazing ability to adjust to changing circumstances. I continue to be amazed how quickly they can change course in their lives individually and collectively in response to physical and societal pressures. I still have hope for them and will continue to investigate the possibilities of how to help them in their development. More to follow.
CHAPTER FOUR
Prince Benford sat at his console, frowning. Before him pages of data streamed like a passing parade, flowing too quickly for most people to read it, but not for him. It was one of his talents and it had served him well since long before he had become head of his clan. His capacity to assimilate and manipulate information was legendary throughout the Empire and he wielded it like a weapon, winning position and power for himself and his family. At the moment, his frowning was not a matter of concentration but one of concern.
He
