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.It had an unreasoning solipsistic bias that made him feel theEarth couldn't continue to exist without him; now that he was gone fromher, his protection would be withdrawn, and all the disasters he had beenkeeping from Earth by personal force of will would happen, all at once.They did, in his dreams.And he would twist awake to the ugly sound of hisown screaming.He would dream that he was awake, and he would get up and walk tothe foot of the staircase on his way upstairs, and the mirror on the wallthere would give him his reflection distorted, twisted, slimy, skin runningwith pustules, scabs, horns, claws, demon eyes: a monster.He dreamed that Liraun gave birth to a worm that howled.He began to drink.Farber had never been averse to an occasional drink, but now he startedto drink in earnest moderately heavy at first, then heavily, and then very heavily indeed.It helped; it definitely helped.Deaden the nerves enough,numb the brain sufficiently, and he didn't worry about bad dreams.Hedidn't worry about much of anything.He kept drinking.He began to buypills from the Enclave black market, rationalizing it magnificently everystep of the way, and from then on chased his liquors with downers, andvice versa.He experimented with native brews.With wines and whiskeysfermented from odd alien substances.He found a soapy native root thatlooked something like a yam, and which, when dissolved in wine, was evenbetter than the pills.It was cheaper too.He was drunk most of the timenow.He was beginning to get fat.Thanks to an iron constitution, he was still amazingly healthy,considering what he was inflicting on his body every day.But his hands,he noticed, were just starting to develop a fine tremor.How long until he pushed himself beyond the chance of recovery?A little more wine.At least he was a courtly drunk, he told himself.Although he might getmaudlin when he was sloshed, he was never abusive or discourteous toLiraun.He never beat her up or bullied her around.He didn't let himselfget mean with her, pulled himself up sharp if he saw it building in himself.Least he could do.Least he owed her.She deserved better than havingsome drunken fool slap her around when she came home from working tosupport them.Don't let that happen! he told himself, feeling like he wasshouting into a deep dry well.Liraun still seemed fairly happy, althoughshe must be disappointed in him she still treated him the same way shealways had, comforting him when he'd wake up screaming, cooking forhim, ignoring his delicate condition.Putting up with him, poor woman,he told himself.Poor woman.A little more wine.Somewhere in his head,the first sly, insidious thought of suicide.A few days later, Liraun suddenly became withdrawn, nervous, andrather grim.Farber wondered if she hadn't finally gotten fed up with him,and cut back visibly on the booze for almost three days, in a half-sly,half-sincere effort to placate her.But this was wasted effort on Farber'spart it wasn't his drinking that was on her mind.Early in the evening on Farber's third night of semi-abstention, she toldhim what really was on her mind.It was the beginning of weinunid sheexplained, one of the times that came every four years when a wife wasallowed by custom to conceive.If Farber wished to "start" children to be born in the current surge, he would have to impregnate her within thenext four days.Otherwise he would have to wait four years to thebeginning of the next surge, when she would be required by custom toconceive anyway four years being the maximum time a couple couldremain childless.Most couples waited the maximum four years beforestarting children.But by custom, the decision was Farber's he couldmake her conceive now instead, if he wished.All this was explained in a halting, reluctant voice, as if the words werebeing yanked out of her on a string, against her will.The taboo againstdiscussing personal matters even with your husband, apparently, or wasthat because he was Terran? was a powerful one.Most of the time it wassatisfied by discussing such things only in the most circuitous andsymbolic of speech; when bald words were necessary, as now, it wasenough of a strain to make a normally loquacious woman into atonguetied stutterer.But there was something else wrong, this time.He studied her closely.She was still nervously grim.She was standing stiffly, feet braced.Her eyeswere narrowed, a muscle in her jaw was tensed.A few beads of sweatstood out on her forehead.She was still trying, clumsily, to talk about theweinunid.So that's it, he suddenly realized.She wants a child! and she knows if Idon't opt for one now, she'll have to wait another four years.And ofcourse it would be against custom to try to influence my decision.That'sthe reason for this grim waiting silence.She wants a child.He stared at her, waiting for the idea to sink in.When it did, his first reaction was, Well, why not?She had to havesomething for herself.God knows, she got little enough out of him thesedays.If she really wanted it, why not let her have it? He owed her thatmuch, or more, putting up with a sad fool like himself all this time.Besides, maybe it would settle her down some.Settle things down allaround.Even him? Well if he got better they'd have a family, and if hegot worse at least the baby would be some comfort to her."Would you like to have a child, Liraun?" he asked her in a careful voice.Her face went blank [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.It had an unreasoning solipsistic bias that made him feel theEarth couldn't continue to exist without him; now that he was gone fromher, his protection would be withdrawn, and all the disasters he had beenkeeping from Earth by personal force of will would happen, all at once.They did, in his dreams.And he would twist awake to the ugly sound of hisown screaming.He would dream that he was awake, and he would get up and walk tothe foot of the staircase on his way upstairs, and the mirror on the wallthere would give him his reflection distorted, twisted, slimy, skin runningwith pustules, scabs, horns, claws, demon eyes: a monster.He dreamed that Liraun gave birth to a worm that howled.He began to drink.Farber had never been averse to an occasional drink, but now he startedto drink in earnest moderately heavy at first, then heavily, and then very heavily indeed.It helped; it definitely helped.Deaden the nerves enough,numb the brain sufficiently, and he didn't worry about bad dreams.Hedidn't worry about much of anything.He kept drinking.He began to buypills from the Enclave black market, rationalizing it magnificently everystep of the way, and from then on chased his liquors with downers, andvice versa.He experimented with native brews.With wines and whiskeysfermented from odd alien substances.He found a soapy native root thatlooked something like a yam, and which, when dissolved in wine, was evenbetter than the pills.It was cheaper too.He was drunk most of the timenow.He was beginning to get fat.Thanks to an iron constitution, he was still amazingly healthy,considering what he was inflicting on his body every day.But his hands,he noticed, were just starting to develop a fine tremor.How long until he pushed himself beyond the chance of recovery?A little more wine.At least he was a courtly drunk, he told himself.Although he might getmaudlin when he was sloshed, he was never abusive or discourteous toLiraun.He never beat her up or bullied her around.He didn't let himselfget mean with her, pulled himself up sharp if he saw it building in himself.Least he could do.Least he owed her.She deserved better than havingsome drunken fool slap her around when she came home from working tosupport them.Don't let that happen! he told himself, feeling like he wasshouting into a deep dry well.Liraun still seemed fairly happy, althoughshe must be disappointed in him she still treated him the same way shealways had, comforting him when he'd wake up screaming, cooking forhim, ignoring his delicate condition.Putting up with him, poor woman,he told himself.Poor woman.A little more wine.Somewhere in his head,the first sly, insidious thought of suicide.A few days later, Liraun suddenly became withdrawn, nervous, andrather grim.Farber wondered if she hadn't finally gotten fed up with him,and cut back visibly on the booze for almost three days, in a half-sly,half-sincere effort to placate her.But this was wasted effort on Farber'spart it wasn't his drinking that was on her mind.Early in the evening on Farber's third night of semi-abstention, she toldhim what really was on her mind.It was the beginning of weinunid sheexplained, one of the times that came every four years when a wife wasallowed by custom to conceive.If Farber wished to "start" children to be born in the current surge, he would have to impregnate her within thenext four days.Otherwise he would have to wait four years to thebeginning of the next surge, when she would be required by custom toconceive anyway four years being the maximum time a couple couldremain childless.Most couples waited the maximum four years beforestarting children.But by custom, the decision was Farber's he couldmake her conceive now instead, if he wished.All this was explained in a halting, reluctant voice, as if the words werebeing yanked out of her on a string, against her will.The taboo againstdiscussing personal matters even with your husband, apparently, or wasthat because he was Terran? was a powerful one.Most of the time it wassatisfied by discussing such things only in the most circuitous andsymbolic of speech; when bald words were necessary, as now, it wasenough of a strain to make a normally loquacious woman into atonguetied stutterer.But there was something else wrong, this time.He studied her closely.She was still nervously grim.She was standing stiffly, feet braced.Her eyeswere narrowed, a muscle in her jaw was tensed.A few beads of sweatstood out on her forehead.She was still trying, clumsily, to talk about theweinunid.So that's it, he suddenly realized.She wants a child! and she knows if Idon't opt for one now, she'll have to wait another four years.And ofcourse it would be against custom to try to influence my decision.That'sthe reason for this grim waiting silence.She wants a child.He stared at her, waiting for the idea to sink in.When it did, his first reaction was, Well, why not?She had to havesomething for herself.God knows, she got little enough out of him thesedays.If she really wanted it, why not let her have it? He owed her thatmuch, or more, putting up with a sad fool like himself all this time.Besides, maybe it would settle her down some.Settle things down allaround.Even him? Well if he got better they'd have a family, and if hegot worse at least the baby would be some comfort to her."Would you like to have a child, Liraun?" he asked her in a careful voice.Her face went blank [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]