First Channel

"And Rimon has me in his. It's called love."

"Rimon," said Farris, "I must supervise the unloading of the stock. Will you join me?"

A courteous invitation between equals. Rimon could not refuse—and he didn't really want to. They walked down the lane to the large tent assigned to Farris. The crew had scrubbed and disinfected everything, and the flaps were up to air it out. The wagons pulled up one by one, unloading their cargo carefully, no cruelty allowed. That had always been important to his father. Farris Gens were treated kindly, never u

Rimon wanted to lash out—to demand that his father recognize Kadi as a person, all Gens as people—but as he watched Farris carefully inspecting, helping to lift one of the pre-Gen children down from a wagon, he was suddenly reminded so powerfully of Abel Veritt that it took his breath away. He can't recognize Kadi as a person, any more than he dare think of the Gens he raises as more than animals. He doesn't have Abel's faith to sustain him. If he knew—he'd die!

For the first time in his life, Rimon perceived his father as weaker than himself—there was a definite frailty at the edges of his nager that could only become worse with advancing years. And what does he have to live for? His wife is dead, his son gone to a life he can't understand. "Kadi," he said softly, "we should leave now." Before we do any more damage.

As Kadi stepped to his side, Syrus Farris turned back to them—and Rimon realized that he had perceived that strange state of their fields when Kadi was high-field and he was low.

"We're still here," he said with a chuckle, knowing others" perceived it as if they disappeared nagerically. "But we must get on to our business."

Farris ignored that. "Let me zlin you without the Gen."

Obligingly, Kadi went over to watch the children being unloaded. Farris zli

"Still a few days from it."

"But you're steady, calm—Rimon, I must admit that you're healthier than I've seen you since your changeover. If it's from living without killing, so be it. Come home, Rimon. I won't ask you to kill—you say you can draw from any Gen. You can have all the Gens you want. Come home, find a wife—"

"I have a wife."

Suddenly, from Kadi, he felt a shock, and she cried, "Rimon!"

Another wagon had drawn up; several Gens were being herded into the Pens—and one of them was Nerob.

"Kadi!" exclaimed Nerob, but she turned and ran to Rimon.

The Gen was the same mixture of defiance and cowardice Rimon remembered. He looked at them. "Rimon? Rimon!" The Gen began to beg, frantic as his line moved toward the holding cage. "Buy me, Rimon! We were always friends —don't let them sell me for a kill. I'll work for you– anything!"

As if he'd never tried to take Kadi away from me. Nevertheless, Rimon felt pity for Nerob. Kadi was silently pleading for mercy. He could send Nerob across the border and be rid of him. The money—shen! He'd get it somewhere. Nerob—Yahn—was a person. A person Rimon detested, but a person even so.

"All right, Yahn, I'll see what I can do," he said, marshaling his mind for a bidding duel with his father. "N'vet Farris, that old breeding male can't be worth much. Name a fair price, and perhaps we can do some business."

His father zli

"I won't sell him to you," said Farris. "For your own good, Rimon, I won't sell Nerob at all. I'll put him back to breeding—if you'll sell me Kadi as a mate for him."

Such utter rage thrilled through Rimon's body that Syrus Farris took an involuntary step back, holding just as Kadi's field gripped and held Rimon, her hands clamped about his biceps to prevent him from going for his father's throat. Gone was every trace of sympathy he'd felt for him. only moments ago.

Savagely, he said, "So this is how you choose which promises to keep! And I always wanted to be just like you!"

"Rimon!"

"If the Farris honor means anything to you, Father, then sell Yahn to me—for the sake of your promise to Keslic!"

"I can't do that, Rimon. I'd pay anything to get you to come home—live a normal—"

"Normal! I'll tell you how normal your life is. Mother died. Lenara died!" He paused as his father registered shock at the name. "All the Farris women die—but not Kadi. Kadi's given me a son, and I know from the way it happened he's going to be Sime like you and me. I've found the way Farrises can have children—without killing their women. We have to have them by Gens, Father. Take a good look at Kadi. Remember her. And remember that she has given me one child already. There will be others– and she won't die. You just think about that!"

And he turned and stalked out, Kadi close at his side.

Chapter Twenty-Three

COMING HOME

It took the entire walk to the Varnst tents for Rimon to stop shaking. He had lost control again—control of his temper, this time. Even though he knew his father would never have sold him Nerob, the thought persisted: I lost him his last chance to live.

Kadi, too, was silent, her emotions in turmoil. Only when they reached their destination did she begin to give Rimon any support. Finally she said, "Your father was never like that."

"I think we're the ones who've changed. We're building a little corner of the Territory where people don't do things like that to other people. But I've been contaminated by just two days back in this environment—the way I lashed out at Father was meant to hurt him."

"You just told the truth."

"Maybe. I think so. But what good will it do him to know it? If he believes it, it can only hurt him. Kadi, let's check out the pre-Gens and get out of here."

They found their way to the small tent Varnst had set up to display children. "We got twelve for sale," one of the men told him, "from nine years on up. You buy a young one, you can get several years' work even if it changes over." He had sized Rimon up as a young man shopping for a servant. Amazing—someone who didn't place him as a Farris. Thinking of the way prices would rise if he were recognized, he kept quiet and looked over the children while the salesman was looking over Kadi.

"Now, that's some Gen! Want to sell her?"

"No, thanks," said Rimon. "There're only eleven children here."

The man turned, looked over the group of children in red Varnst smocks, and said, "Trouble again! Hey, Treen, you were supposed to keep an eye on Trouble! He's escaped again."

"Shen!" said a young Sime woman at the end of the tent. "I only turned my back for a minute!" As she went out of the tent, zli

"You've got one there who's already learned how to hide from Simes," he said.

"Hmmm?"

"He's under the platform."

The salesman zli

He hauled out a boy of about twelve, earning several ill-aimed blows and kicks in the process. He pulled the boy's hands behind his back and held him as the child regaled him with imaginative invective. But while the boy's Simelan was fluent, as far as it went, it was strongly accented.

While the salesman was distracted, Rimon whispered to Kadi, "Talk to him—I don't want them to know I speak English."