Humans

Chapter Five

Ponter and Daklar walked through the square, chatting. Lots of children were about, playing games, chasing each other, having fun.

“I’ve always wanted to ask a man,” said Daklar. “Do you miss your children when Two are separate?”

A little boy—a 148—ran right in front of them, catching a flying triangle. Ponter never regretted having two daughters, but sometimes he did wish he had a son, as well. “Of course,” he said. “I think about them constantly.”

“They’re such wonderful girls, Jasmel and Mega,” said Daklar.

“I thought you and Jasmel crossed spears while I was away,” said Ponter.

Daklar laughed ruefully. “Oh, yes, indeed. She spoke on behalf of Adikor at the dooslarm basadlarm, and I was the one accusing him. But I’m no fool, Ponter. Obviously I was wrong, and she was right.”

“So things are pleasant between the two of you now?”

“It’ll take some time,” said Daklar. “You know how Jasmel is. Stubborn as a stalactite—hanging on despite everything trying to pull her down.”

Ponter laughed. He did indeed know Jasmel—and, it seemed, Daklar knew her, too. “She can be difficult,” Ponter said.

“She’s just turned 225 months old,” said Daklar. “Of course she’s difficult. So was I, at her age.” She paused. “There’s a lot of pressure on young ladies, you know. She’s expected to take two mates before winter. I know Tryon is likely to become her man-mate, but she’s still searching for a woman-mate.”

“She’ll have no trouble,” said Ponter. “She’s quite a find.”

Daklar smiled. “That she is. She’s got all of Klast’s best qualities and…” She paused again, perhaps wondering if she were being too forward. “And all of yours, as well.”

But Ponter was pleased by the remark. “Thank you,” he said.

Daklar looked down. “When Klast died, Jasmel and Mega were very sad. Megameg was too young to really understand, but Jasmel…It’s hard for a girl, not having a mother.” She fell silent, and Ponter wondered if she was gathering for him to volunteer that Jasmel had had an excellent substitute. Ponter was beginning to think that was probably true, but he didn’t know what to say. “I’ve tried to be a good tabant, ” continued Daklar, “but it’s not the same as having their mother look after them.”

Again, Ponter wasn’t sure what the politic answer was. “No,” he said at last. “I imagine it’s not.”

“I know there was no way they could have gone to live with you and Adikor,” said Daklar. “Two girls, out at the Rim…”

“No,” agreed Ponter. “That would have been impossible.”

“Did you…” Daklar trailed off, looking again at the closely cropped grass covering the square. “Did you resent the fact that I ended up looking after them?”

Ponter shrugged a little. “You were Klast’s woman-mate. You were the logical one for her to name as tabant.”

Daklar tipped her head slightly. Her voice was soft. “That wasn’t what I asked.”

Ponter closed his eyes and exhaled. “No, it wasn’t. Yes, I suppose I resented it—forgive me for saying so. I mean, I am their father; their genetic relative. You…”

Daklar waited for him to go on, but when it became clear that he wasn’t inclined to, she finished his thought for him. “I wasn’t a blood relation,” she said. “They weren’t my children, and yet I ended up taking care of them.”

Ponter said nothing; there was no polite response.

“It’s all right,” said Daklar, touching Ponter’s arm for a beat. “It’s all right for you to feel that way. It’s natural.”

Several geese flew by overhead, and some thrushes that had been sitting on the grass took wing as the two of them drew nearer. “I love my children very much,” Ponter said.

“I love them, too,” said Daklar. “I know they’re not mine, but I’ve lived with them their whole lives, and, well, I love them as if they were.”

Ponter stopped walking and looked at Daklar. He’d never really delved into this type of relationship before; he’d always sort of assumed that another person’s children were a bit of a nuisance—certainly Adikor’s Dab was a mischievous sort. In a normal family, Daklar would have had children of her own. A daughter or a son of generation 148 would still be living with her mother and her mother’s woman-mate, and a daughter of generation 147 would also still be at home, although she’d be pairing off with a man-mate and a woman-mate of her own in the next several months.

“You look surprised,” said Daklar. “I do love Jasmel and Mega.”

“Well, I—I guess I never thought about it.”

Daklar smiled. “So you see, we have a lot in common. We both loved the same woman. And we both love the same children.”

Ponter and Daklar decided to start by watching a play performed in an outdoor amphitheater. Ponter had always liked live theater, and this was one of his favorites: Wamlar and Kolapa, a historical piece about a male hunter and a female gatherer. This kind of drama could only be performed when Two became One and both male and female actors could work together. The plot depended on all sorts of twists and turns that would be impossible in the modern Companion era: people going missing, others failing to communicate over distances, still others being unable to prove that they’d been at a specific place at a specific time, and conflicting accounts of events.

Ponter found his knee pressing against Daklar’s as they sat cross-legged side by side in the amphitheater.

It really was a good play.

After the play, Ponter and Daklar went to visit little Megameg, who was playing with friends. She seemed delighted to see her father and ran toward him from across the yard.

“Hey, sweetie,” Ponter said, lifting her up.

“Hi, Daddy!” She looked over at Daklar and said, in a tone that Ponter realized was equally warm, “Hi, Daklar!”

He felt a brief twinge, wishing that there was some obvious preference for him over her, for her biological father over her legal guardian. But it quickly passed. His young daughter, he knew, had plenty of love to go around. He squeezed her again, then put her down.

“Watch me do a trick!” she said. She ran a few paces away from them and did a back flip.

“Wow!” said Ponter, beaming with pride.

“Wonderful!” said Daklar, clapping her hands together. Ponter looked at Daklar and smiled. Daklar smiled back at him.

Megameg evidently wanted to do another trick, but Ponter and Daklar weren’t looking at her. “Daddy! Mommy! Watch!” she shouted.

Ponter’s breath caught in his throat. Megameg looked embarrassed. “Oops!” she said in her little voice. “I mean, Daddy, Daklar—watch!”

By midafternoon, Ponter was growing increasingly nervous. After all, this was Two becoming One, and he wasn’t an idiot. But he hadn’t had sex with a woman—well, his first thought was he hadn’t done it since Klast had died, two ten months ago. But it had been longer than that. Oh, he had loved Klast until the day she died, but the cancer had had its effects before then. It had been…actually, he wasn’t sure. Ponter had never allowed himself to think that this was the last time he’d make love to Klast, that this was the final time he would slip into her, but…

But there had been a final time, an ultimate coupling before she was too weak to be able to do it again. That must have been a full ten month prior to her death.

So. At least thirty months. Yes, he’d been satisfied by Adikor during that span, but…

But it wasn’t the same. Physical relations between two men—or two women, for that matter—although equally signs of love, were entertainment, fun. But sex was the act of potential procreation.

There was no way Daklar, or any woman, could become pregnant during this Two becoming One. All the women, living together, inhaling each other’s pheromones, had their menstrual cycles synchronized. It wouldn’t be possible for any of them to get pregnant at this time of month. Yes, next year, when generation 149 was to be conceived, the High Gray Council would change the dates of Two becoming One so that they coincided with the time of maximum fertility.

Still, even if there was no chance of Daklar conceiving, it had been a long while since…

“Let’s take the kids over to Darson Square and get something to eat,” said Daklar.

Ponter felt his eyebrow rolling up his browridge. The kids. No question as to which kids. His kids.

Her kids.

Their kids.

She certainly knew the way to endear herself. Asexual overture would have left him flustered, unsure. But an outing with the kids…

It was just what he needed.

“Sure,” he said. “Sure thing.”

Ponter beckoned Megameg over to them, and they went off to find Jasmel—which was easy enough, since her Companion and Hak could communicate with each other. Lots of children were still out playing, but many adults had adjourned into homes for lovemaking. A few adults—men and women both—remained outdoors.

Ponter hadn’t really seen much in the way of children over in the Gliksin world, but he’d gathered that they weren’t left alone like this. Gliksin society was doubly wounded. First, they’d never had a purging of their gene pool, eliminating the most undesirable psychological traits. And, second, no Lonwis Trob had ever appeared to liberate them: without Companion implants and alibi recorders, Gliksins were still subject to personal assault, and, based on what little he’d seen on the Gliksin video system, children were common targets.

But here, in this world, children could roam freely day and night. Ponter wondered how parents stayed sane in the Gliksin universe.

“There she is!” said Daklar, spotting Ponter’s daughter before he himself did. Jasmel and Tryon were looking at a display of flensing implements set up in an outdoor booth.

“Jasmel!” called Ponter, waving. His daughter looked up, and he was delighted to see an instant smile, not a look of disappointment that her time with Tryon was being interrupted.

Ponter and Daklar closed the distance. “We were thinking of going to Darson Square, maybe get some buffalo to eat.”

“I should really spend a little time with my own parents,” said Tryon, whether picking up a hint from Ponter’s posture or actually wanting to do what he said, Ponter couldn’t say. Tryon leaned over and licked Jasmel’s face. “See you tonight,” he said.

“Let’s go,” said Megameg, reaching up and taking Ponter’s hand with her left one and Daklar’s hand with her right one. Jasmel fell in next to Ponter, and he put an arm around her shoulders, and the four of them headed off together.