The Call of Earth: 2 (Homecoming) Read Free

hope of . . . recovery?”
    Gulya had been standing near enough that now he easily inserted himself into the conversation. “It seems to be a normal case of death, madam, which means the prognosis isn’t good.” He giggled.
    Rashgallivak gave him quite a vicious shove and sent him staggering. “That wasn’t funny,” he said.
    “They’re letting critics backstage now?” said Gulya.
“During
the performance?”
    “Go away, Gulya,” said Kokor. It had been a mistake to sleep with the old man. Ever since then he had thought he had some claim to intimacy with her.
    “Naturally it would be best if you came with me,” said Rashgallivak.
    “But no,” said Kokor. “No, that wouldn’t be best.” Who was
he?
He wasn’t any kin to her at all, not that she knew of. She would have to go to Mother. Did Mother know yet? “Does Mother . . .”
    “Naturally I told her first, and she told me where to find
you.
This is a very dangerous time, and I promised her that I would protect you.”
    Kokor knew he was lying, of course. Why should she need this stranger to protect her? From what? Men always got this way, though, insisting that a woman who hadn’t a fear in the world needed watching out for.
Ownership,
that’s what men always meant when they spoke of protection. If she wanted a man to own her, she
had
a husband, such as he was. She hardly needed this old pizdook to look out for her.
    “Where’s Sevet?”
    “She hasn’t been found yet. I must insist that you come with me.”
    Now Tumannu had to get into the scene. “She’s going nowhere. She has three more scenes, including the climax.”
    Rashgallivak turned on her, and now there was some hint of majesty about him, instead of mere vague befuddlement. “Her father has been killed,” he said. “And you suppose she will stay to finish a
play?”
Or had the majesty been there all along, and she simply hadn’t noticed it until now?
    “Sevet ought to know about Father,” said Kokor.
    “She’ll be told as soon as we can find her.”
    Who is
we?
Never mind, thought Kokor.
I
know where to find her. I know all her rendezvous, where she takes her lovers to avoid giving affront to her poor husband Vas. Sevet and Vas, like Kokor and Obring, had a flexible marriage, but Vas seemed less comfortable with it than Obring was. Some men were so . . . territorial. Probably it was because Vas was a scientist, not an artist at all. Obring, on the other hand, understood the artistic life. He would never dream of holding Kokor to the letter of their marriage contract. He sometimes joked quite cheerfully about the men she was seeing.
    Though, of course, Kokor would never actually insult Obring by mentioning them herself. If he heard a rumor about a lover, that was one thing. When he mentioned it, she would simply toss her head and say, “You silly. You’re the only man I love.”
    And in an odd sort of way it was true. Obring was such a dear, even if he had no acting talent at all. He always brought her presents and told her the most wonderful gossip. No wonder she had stayed married to him through two renewals already—people often remarked on how faithful she was, to still be married toher first husband for a third year, when she was young and beautiful and could marry anyone. True, marrying him in the first place was simply to please his mother, old Dhel, who had served as her auntie and who was Mother’s dearest friend. But she had grown to like Obring, genuinely
like
him. Being married to him was very comfortable and sweet. As long as she could sleep with whomever she liked.
    It would be fun to find Sevet and walk in on her and see whom she was sleeping with tonight. Kokor hadn’t pounced on her that way in years. Find her with some naked, sweating man, tell her that Father was dead, and then watch that poor man’s face as he gradually realized that he was all done with love for the night!
    “
I’ll
tell Sevet,” said Kokor.
    “You’ll come with
me
,” insisted